


we'll be able to fly, don't fear the reaper

by grimeysociety



Category: Captain America (Movies), Defending Jacob (TV 2020), Knives Out (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Bathtubs, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bondage, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Breast Fucking, Choking, Closet Sex, Come Eating, Couch Sex, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Darcy Lewis Feels, Darcy Lewis Needs a Hug, Demisexual Darcy Lewis, Doggy Style, Drunk Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Facials, Female Ejaculation, First Time, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Groping, Hair-pulling, Intercrural Sex, Jewish Wanda Maximoff, Kinktober 2020, Licking, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Massage, Multi, Open Relationships, Pegging, Piercings, Reunion Sex, Role Reversal, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Runaway Bride, Scratching, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Shibari, Shower Sex, Sleepy Sex, Snugglefuck, Spanking, Stripping, The Jerk Off Trope, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M, Tickling, Top Steve Rogers, Tumblr Prompt, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 60,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26301964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: 31 Days of Smut for Kinktober 2020!
Relationships: Andy Barber/Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow, Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, Darcy Lewis/Wanda Maximoff, Darcy Lewis/Wanda Maximoff/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis, James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Wanda Maximoff, Ransom Drysdale/Darcy Lewis, Wanda Maximoff/Steve Rogers
Comments: 1117
Kudos: 566





	1. Darcy/Steve - First Time & Baths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Em_Jaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Jaye/gifts), [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts), [IdiotRiot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdiotRiot/gifts), [Merideath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merideath/gifts), [littleogre8695](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleogre8695/gifts), [everythinghappensforareason17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythinghappensforareason17/gifts), [SlytherinStarkRavingMad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinStarkRavingMad/gifts), [Farleigh_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farleigh_Wolf/gifts), [Endless_Calendar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endless_Calendar/gifts).



> Welcome to Kinktober 2020! I am your host for the next 31 days of smut. This prompt list is taken from [one created](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466580) by [Zaidee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyrine/pseuds/Zaidee). The fic title comes from Blue Öyster Cult's song (Don't Fear) The Reaper. I will add tags and pairings as I go. Titles of each chapter will mark prompts and pairings for your convenience.
> 
> Thank you for pretending you're not reading this during lunch breaks at work. So many kisses coming your way. ❤
> 
> Opening chapter is a double prompt because I felt like it. Big thanks to Zephrbabe who just happened to pop into my Tumblr DMs back in early September with a dirty song. 
> 
> I made a whole Spotify playlist for Kinktober [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l).
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)

_Yeah I want it harder 'cause this love shouldn't go to waste_  
_Won't you let me be your girl?_  
**\- "Bathroom Bitch" by HOLYCHILD**

“You’re back.”

She gasped it the second she laid eyes on him, seeing Steve battered and bruised, marks on his face. His suit was a little messed up, too, cuts on his arms and legs, mud on his boots. His shield wasn’t on him, neither his fingerless gloves, his hands on her waist when she dove for him, pulling him into a tight hug.

They’d known one another for almost a year, spent the holidays together last year, and been in each other’s orbit.

They broke the spell of ‘just friends’ some time ago when they started to openly flirt, but Darcy figured he was just being cheeky, the same way she was with other men. It was only a few days ago that they acknowledged out loud that they liked one another – Steve had asked her out for coffee, which she’d tried not to read into too much. She’d tried not to fuss over outfits, makeup and making some type of impression.

Then he told her he had to go away for a couple days, and now he was standing in the labs, having come to find her upon his return, and Darcy didn’t want to stop holding him. She’d missed him, fretted over him, and had lost sleep over him, and they hadn’t even kissed. To her credit, Jane hadn’t teased her too much.

She felt one of Steve’s hands cup the back of her head and he held her just as tight, his mouth at her ear:

“Yeah, in one piece.”

When he pulled back, Darcy examined his face, seeing his bottom lip was split, but he looked good. In fact, all roughed up like this, he was entirely adorable, his eyes brighter when they fell to her own mouth.

“Came to find you.”

“Let’s get outta here,” Darcy whispered, and he gave a half-smile.

“Jane won’t mind?”

“She’s on lunch,” Darcy retorted, one brow lifting. “And if she’s gonna reprimand me for ditching work at a time like this, she’d be a complete hypocrite.”

Darcy remembered racing out of apartments when Jane was reunited with Thor. It was obvious to everyone there that there was no way Jane was not going to pounce on top of him for reunion sex and try to hide it.

They took the elevator up, Darcy’s hand in his, both of them smiling in the silence, the anticipation making Darcy’s stomach flutter, desire beginning to pool there, too. She was so relieved, spurred on by the knowledge that he’d come straight to her. Their dumb coffee date must’ve stuck out enough.

Steve went to scratch the back of his head, his hair already sticking up a little at the front, and winced. Darcy met his eye, frowning.

“You okay?”

“Might’ve pulled something,” he muttered. “S’okay, I’m just a little sore.”

“Like, achy?” Darcy asked, and he nodded.

“It’s nothing, it’s fine –”

“You could have a soak in my tub,” she said, blurting out the idea. Now that she thought about it longer than half a second, it was a pretty good one. “The magnesium in the bath salts I use, they help when I’ve been sitting weird at my desk all day.”

“You do have terrible posture,” Steve murmured, a smile forming. “Is that… is that okay?”

“You in my bath? Yeah,” she said, laughing a little.

The elevator stopped and Darcy tugged him out, placing her hand on the reader outside her door when they came to it. She was aware of Steve’s gaze on her.

She let them in, walking straight through to the bathroom, Steve following her. It wasn’t the first time he’d been here, but it was the first time since they started – well, whatever they were. He’d been there last time during a Christmas party and she’d leaned on him after her heel snapped clean off. People had joked about her being legless because she was drunk, when in reality it was her cheap shoes breaking, but she hadn’t managed to live it down, everyone believing she and Steve had consummated their friendship that night.

It was way more boring than that. At the time, all Steve had done was tell her she had some type of draft, no wonder she was cold all the time, and then he made some smartass comment about the invention of clothing hangers when he saw all the shirts she’d left on the floor.

Darcy bent to turn on the faucet, fiddling with the water temperature to find a nice medium. She had a habit of sitting in near-scolding water, but this was meant to be inviting and relaxing. She grabbed a bottle of body wash to make bubbles and squirted a fair amount in, the room beginning to smell of caramel.

“You want a drink?” she asked, turning back around.

Steve blinked. “Uh, sure. Please.”

She walked out, feeling that flutter in her belly, getting two bottles of beer from the fridge. She’d saved them – her crush was important enough that she’d hoarded these bottles for the last couple weeks, waiting for the right moment.

She passed him a bottle, clinking his with hers.

“To your good health,” she declared, and Steve smirked.

They both sipped, the silence lapsing between them feeling different to before. As the tub filled, they drank, until Steve shut off the water when it reached near the top. He put down his bottle on the bathroom sink, scrubbing his hair.

“Buck teased me a lot while we were gone.”

“Yeah? How come?” Darcy asked, taking a gulp to steady herself.

“Said something about me being incapable of seducing you,” Steve said.

Darcy scoffed, knowing she was blushing again, but it wouldn’t change how pink she already was.

“Seems a little harsh –”

As she spoke, Steve swiftly crossed his arms, taking hold of the bottom of his shirt and pulled it upwards, his face obscured for a second as he tugged it up and off. His shirt, now inside-out, was tossed on the floor, and Darcy had _frozen_ , staring at Steve’s now naked upper half.

She hadn’t seen him shirtless before. His fair skin was marked with bruises and gashes, but that meant nothing to his overall appeal. His muscles looked like they were carved from stone, smooth and sharp, broad shoulders and chest, full pecs, a tiny waist and jutting hip bones.

Darcy swallowed, turning away.

“Uh…”

Her body seemed to move of its own accord, her eyes darting to the bottle she still held in her hand, her gaze trained on the bubbles inside to distract herself, knowing she could hear him pull the rest of his clothes off, his boots along with them, and then the distinct sloshes of him stepping into the bath and lowering himself into the water.

Darcy swallowed hard, wondering what exactly she expected to happen when she invited him to use her tub. Maybe she’d thought he’d excuse himself and she’d slip out, let him enjoy some quiet alone time while she twiddled her thumbs? Darcy clearly hadn’t thought this through, and Steve wasn’t giving it too much thought _at all_. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach as she found her voice, attempting to regain some composure.

“I’ll get you a towel.”

“Okay.”

He half-groaned his response, which made Darcy’s eyes widen ever so slightly, toward the wall, as if to say – _well, okay. That’s what he sounds like_.

She ducked into the cabinet under the sink to retrieve a fluffy towel, keeping on her knees as she shuffled back toward him, eyes still downcast.

“Thanks,” he murmured, and Darcy glanced up to look at him.

She felt herself smile, pushing her hair back self-consciously.

“Oh, the Epsom salts,” she said suddenly, remembering.

She went back for them in the cabinet, grabbing the box from the very back, and she heard him murmur:

“Can you pass me my beer, too, sweetheart?”

Oh. Oh, _okay_. That felt way too good, and he said that way too easily. Darcy smirked, picking up the beer from the sink, moving toward him.

The bubbles were enough to cover most of his lower half, but she made sure to keep her eyes on his face as she moved back toward him, holding the beer out, placing the salts on the floor near him.

He grabbed the bottle, put it to his lips and took a happy swig.

“I’ll, uh –”

His spare hand made a little splash in the water as it darted out to grab her wrist, tugging her back.

“Stay.”

“Okay,” Darcy babbled, sinking to the floor.

She leaned her elbow on the edge of the tub as he let her go, her eyes swinging to his to watch him pour out some salts, his hand swirling under the water when he put the box aside. He seemed happy, the nearest to calm she’d ever seen him. He usually was so grumpy and flat when he came back from a mission.

“How’s the water?” she murmured, and his brows lifted a little and then his face slackened again, an easy smile forming.

“Perfect.”

There was a little splash and Steve’s hand came up to lay on Darcy’s, his wet fingers so warm on her skin. She felt the emotion rise up in her again, the same feeling she got when he appeared in the labs.

“I missed you,” he said, and Darcy felt her eyes prickle.

“Missed you, too.”

She felt like she could melt into the tiles beneath her, Steve moving forward a little to reach her, closing that gap. His wet hand left hers to reach to pull her into him, kissing her, a slow peck to her lips.

He tasted of beer, Darcy’s mouth moving against his into something more, her hands moving to his hair, her fingers carding through it. With her eyes closed, her breath hitched as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth.

His arm wrapped around her, his other hand on her face, their beers forgotten, the world fading away with each passing breath they shared, and Darcy could feel it was leading to more, the intent was clear. He drew back for her to breathe, since she’d begun to pant, her arms now around his neck.

“I’m about to drag you into the water,” Steve murmured, and Darcy felt her tummy backflip.

“Yeah, that a threat?”

He tugged her closer and she gave a short squeal, managing to pull back, water sloshing over. Her eyes fell to the tub and she saw her first glimpse of his naked body, his cock trying to breach the surface. Her face was scorching as she looked away, snorting into the side of Steve’s face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m – I’m trying to act cool about this…”

“I’m dropping hints everywhere, sweetheart, I think we’re past cool,” Steve retorted, and Darcy moved to look him in the eye again, nodding.

She kissed him, one hand flat on his chest, slipping further down, and he chuckled when her hand sunk into the water, wrapping her fingers around his shaft.

He felt thick, Steve’s kisses turning rougher, his fingers digging into her waist as she stroked him, his mouth moving down her cheek to her neck, his teeth grazing.

He cupped her through her leggings unexpectedly and Darcy gasped, Steve murmuring:

“Okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Darcy whispered, wanting more, pressing into him. “Please, could you -?”

His hand was down the front of her leggings and she let out another gasp, Steve’s mouth still latched to her neck. His fingers reached her cunt and he circled her clit with his middle and forefinger, Darcy’s hand trying to compete with his pace, everything racing forward –

Usually, when a guy shuffled his hand around down there, Darcy only let it go on for so long before she stopped humouring him, but when Steve tucked two fingers inside her, Darcy realized he knew exactly what he was doing, her clit throbbing under his thumb as he swiped at her, fingers pushing back and forth.

Darcy let out a huff, feeling the coil inside her tightening, her body beginning to vibrate with the need to release, her hand losing momentum under the water.

She couldn’t believe Steve was getting her off with his hand alone, his face buried in her neck, the bathroom beginning to tilt as Darcy’s vision darkened at the edges…

“Fuck, Steve,” she gasped, clenching on his fingers, everything so wonderful and warm, her climax a blooming euphoria, somewhere she wished she could stay…

She was quivering with pleasure, nearly falling on top of him as her whole body went slack, and he caught her, one arm still wrapped around her waist, lips brushing at the space behind her ear.

“I wanna fuck you,” he whispered, and Darcy tried to laugh but she was too dazed.

Her giggle came out all throaty, and Steve was pulling back, eyes dark as he met hers. His fingers were slipping out of her leggings and he put them to his lips, sucking them, reigniting that fire in Darcy’s belly, and she was kissing him breathless a second later, moaning.

He was up from the bath, water dripping as Darcy stepped back, her eyes traveling up and down, and he caught her, hauling her up –

“C’mere, c’mere,” he whispered, kissing her again, and they were both smiling, his hands on her ass, carrying her out into the hallway and into her bedroom, setting her down on the bed.

He looked like a dream, wet and standing proud for her, his hands yanking down her leggings, and Darcy tugged at her shirt and bra, tossing everything aside.

She turned onto her stomach and Steve spat on his hand, his other hand on Darcy’s back so her ass stuck further into the air.

“I’m on the pill,” she whispered, and he yanked her backward, Darcy’s smile growing wider at his eagerness, until he popped inside her, both of them grunting.

“Jesus,” he hissed, sounding stunned. “I thought maybe my fingers were snug, but…”

Darcy backed into him, encouraging him, and he shifted further in, until he’d bottomed out, Darcy’s hands curling into her sheets.

He moved achingly slow, until Darcy let out an impatient:

“ _Steve_ …”

His hips snapped, doing the opposite of shutting her up, Darcy’s moan ripped from her when he took a deep stroke, her cunt gripping him in earnest.

It was a proper fuck, nothing too gentle, not until he was slipping a hand up to cup her breast, her nipple between his fingers, his praise a sweet contrast to each sharp rut of his hips.

“You’re so beautiful, you feel amazing…”

Darcy’s eyes closed as she reveled in the feeling of him, and _only_ him, in and all around her. She was sure she was babbling some nonsense, everything growing taut once more, Steve’s other hand reaching down her front to play with her.

She crumbled, hearing him groan, his thrusts speeding up, hearing the slapping of him into her rear end, and she wanted him to come so badly, just to hear the noise –

He grabbed her, tugging her back for a kiss, holding her against him, his whole body going rigid, a moan so raw in her ears she felt herself blush all over again.

When he came back to Earth, he kissed the side of her face, sighing.

“We should probably wash off all the…”

He couldn’t catch his breath and Darcy began to giggle, Steve joining her, everything dreamy.

“The sweat.”

He pulled out, nodding, and Darcy glanced down, brows hiking.

“And the rest of it,” she added.


	2. Darcy/Steve - Balcony Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 is written with a prompt in mind I was sent by the beautiful and talented **Em_Jaye:**
> 
> Reunion sex (the longer they've been apart, the better). Bonus points if there's mild structural damage from being slammed up against a wall. Just saying.
> 
> This one's a little angsty, but it's also short and sweet. Enjoy! ❤

_Do you need me, like I need you?_  
**\- "Straight From The Heart" by Irma Thomas**

Darcy couldn’t sleep alone anymore. It didn’t help if the night was humid, unseasonably warm like this one, summer weather lingering in September, but since she started dating Steve it was harder to sleep alone.

He was on his way home, their home, an apartment in Brooklyn they carved out for themselves. Darcy had read and replied to his text that told her he’d be back by sunrise, but she hadn’t managed to get close to drifting off, her skin sticky, everything too much for her to settle. She scrolled through the same four apps on her phone, but nothing got her out of her head, so she slipped off of the mattress and walked into the kitchen, filling a glass at the faucet and drained it in a few steady gulps.

She sighed, contemplating her stash in a drawer. A joint might mellow her out, but she didn’t want to eat even more candy. She ate more when Steve was away, out of stress and boredom, depending on how often he was in touch with her.

This mission had been okay, average for the most part, but each time he went away, she got caught up in it, thinking it was the last time he’d ever see him alive. She’d dream of a coffin covered in the American flag, flowers everywhere, Darcy resembling Jackie Kennedy in a black veil, weeping with cameras trained on her…

She knew a state funeral would be the last thing Steve wanted. He’d said he wanted to be buried next to his mom Sarah, sharing that hill with her, his headstone something non-descript. That only made Darcy want to cry, knowing that no matter how far Steve went in his constant self-sacrifice, he’d never be content with the admiration and attention of others. Whenever it came up, the worst case scenario, Steve always moved on swiftly for both their sakes.

It took a long time for him to ever give them a chance anyway, and he’d tried to push her away as gently as possible before, like after the first time they slept together. He was convinced he’d painted a permanent target on her back, and he’d only ever hurt her, but so far Darcy had managed to stay intact, her heart a little bruised every time he had a night terror, dreaming of dead soldiers, his dead mother, or HYDRA throwing Darcy’s dead body at his feet.

Darcy survived in whatever capacity she could, which included sometimes having too much vodka and crying about how she thought he was the most beautiful person she’d ever known. It only made him cling to her tighter, burying his face in her neck with his eyes glassy.

She stepped out onto the balcony, feeling her phone vibrate in her hand, glancing down at it as she unlocked it.

**_Almost there_ **

The relief was too immense, she was lightheaded with it as she leaned on the railing, the flurry of excitement in her belly following soon after. She stayed on the balcony for another ten minutes, listening to the city. There was the distant sound of the front door opening and shutting, the thump of a bag on the floor, and she turned toward the doorway, seeing Steve there, walking toward her with purpose.

“Finally,” she gasped, right before he collided with her, greeting her with an open-mouthed kiss, her eyes flying shut as she was lifted up in his arms, her legs wrapping around his middle, ankles locking.

He smelt of dirt and sweat, his distinct scent of his skin amplified. He covered it up with deodorant or fabric softener in his shirts normally, but Darcy guessed it had been about a day since he’d last showered. She loved his smell, it was hard to explain why exactly, except for the main obvious reason. She was so in love with him.

He was all lips, tongue and teeth, maneuvering her toward the wall by the doorway to the balcony, Darcy’s foot bumping the railing as he pushed her up against the wall. His hands were on her ass and waist, Darcy’s hands deep in his hair as she kissed him back, trying to outrun him, but he was dictating it, devouring her, making her moan and grip him tighter, her back arching from the wall –

His hands disappeared under her sleep shirt and he yanked down her shorts and underwear, drawing a ragged breath from Darcy as he slipped a hand between her bare legs to stuff her with two fingers, his mouth now on the side of her face, moving down to suck at her neck.

He stayed there, fucking her with his hand until she was gripping him in earnest, whimpering and begging without saying a word, her hands scrambling on his arms in desperation.

He got like this when he came home, demanding and possessive, taking from her until he had his fill, controlling her pleasure until she was a quivering mess, telling her just how much she was missed with his body. Everything was full-hearted, intense and brutal, like it was their first time all over again, walls breaking down as he finally let her come close enough –

He shucked down his pants and lifted her up, drawing back to look her in the eye as he filled her to the hilt with a few short thrusts, both of them gasping, his breath hot, neither of them closing their mouths as they kissed again, Darcy’s blood rushing.

He stretched her, began to move with little warning, his hips snapping as he knocked her into the wall. He was slow at first, perhaps in some attempt to remain in control of his own desire to wreck her, but Darcy’s moans soon fixed that, his hips snapping, fingers digging into her ass as he picked up speed. Each thrust squeezed the air out of Darcy’s lungs, and she gave a broken cry with each slap of him into her, his breaths coming in harsher pants.

Darcy was comfortable in between the wall and Steve, in a way, because she was full of him and feeling so wanted, Steve’s mouth everywhere, her neck, her face, her lips. She could hear how wet she was, practically dripping with excitement, her body tightening the further he went. It was only a matter of time before she was reaching down between them where he split her open, fingers slipping through the slick of her arousal and their shared sweat, Steve’s grunt ringing in her ears, his hand shucking up her shirt to watch her play with herself.

He could see her in the semi dark, his hips moving faster than ever, Darcy’s back bowing as she clenched around him, fresh sweat dripping down her face and chest. Everywhere felt blissfully wet but stiflingly warm, Darcy’s face was burning with the exertion.

“Fuck,” Steve grunted, sounding as if his orgasm caught him off-guard, shoving up into Darcy, his hand reaching to grab the side of their apartment building, and there was a distinct cracking sound as his dick jumped inside her as he spilled over –

“Holy shit,” Darcy whispered, more to herself, realizing what had happened.

He’d broken off a piece of the wall with his bare hand, the fragment of brick falling to their feet as he gathered her in his arms, pressing his mouth to hers in a sloppy kiss.

She felt rubbed raw by the end of it, certain the mess was already dripping out of her, Steve’s forehead then pressing to hers, both of them panting.

“Hey,” she whispered, and he gave a short breathless chuckle, sounding drunk.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	3. Darcy/Steve - Creampie & Nudes

_Oh my, my, my_   
_I die every night with you_   
_Oh my, my, my_   
_Living for your every move_   
**\- "My, My, My" by Troye Sivan**

Darcy knew it wasn’t appropriate to send Steve a picture like this one. That was the point.

The idea was to have him so riled up by the time he reached her again that words wouldn’t suffice, and his hands, mouth and cock would do the talking for him.

The picture was taken secretly last night, moments after Steve finished inside her, when he was in the bathroom peeing and Darcy was still lying on the bed on her side, panting and sweaty. She grabbed her phone, angled her arm as best she could, and snapped away.

The picture itself was of her ass, mostly, but also her puffy pussy lips, everything glistening from sweat, Darcy’s own arousal and the mess of Steve’s come that was drooling out of her and onto the bedsheets.

She hadn’t got rid of the blemish on the top of her ass, or tried to smooth out the dimples of cellulite on the back of her thick thighs, or tried to erase the stretch marks from her wide hips. Those weren’t important, since the center of attention _was_ her center.

She was sitting at her desk at lunch currently, chewing on a mouthful of sandwich and keeping a perfectly straight face as Jane sat opposite her, unaware of her mischief.

It served Steve right – running off that morning with barely a kiss goodbye. Darcy wasn’t insecure about his very real lust for her, it was him making her crave him that warranted this type of revenge. It was a fun couple minutes of complete silence from him before Darcy’s phone began to chime with an incoming text, which she ignored for maximum effect.

She couldn’t keep the smile from her face when she read what he’d sent, knowing there were several hours in between now and when he’d be able to see her next.

**_Holy shit_ **

She kept herself humming with desire the rest of the day and some of the night, knowing he would come straight to her apartment when he got the chance. She knew she was waiting for him, finding herself grow impatient, her eyes darting toward her door at every sound her neighbors made, her heart leaping in hope.

She knew she had it bad for him, it wasn’t something she was going to deny if it came up. As the hours dragged on, she began to question her choice earlier that day. She’d never been that nasty with a guy before, so clear with her intentions to rile them up. For the most part, she hated receiving nudes and she didn’t like sending them, but Steve seemed to be the exception to the rule. She found herself wanting to show off for him, since his attention made her feel the most wanted in her life.

Her stomach flipped when there was the knock on her door, no text message or call prior to warn her, and she rose from the couch, walking swiftly over to unlatch the chain and open up.

He kissed her the second he was revealed in the doorway, arm slipping down from the frame as he took hold of her jaw, pulling her into him while he pushed her back inside, Darcy nearly stumbling from the force of him.

He kicked the door shut and the tense silence was filled with the smacks of their lips, Darcy’s breaths turning to pants, Steve’s thigh wedged between hers, her body arching to meet his, his hands now gripping her ass, mouth moving to her jaw and neck –

He pushed her back, toward the couch, until she was tipping over the arm of it and landing on her back, his hands going to his shoulder blades and pulling his shirt off, Darcy’s hands reaching to touch his bare skin, missing the warmth of him.

When he yanked down her leggings and underwear a second later, his eyes flitting down to her cunt, his eyes darker, Darcy flushed.

“Get this off,” he said, grabbing her shirt to pull off, his mouth sealing over hers, and Darcy moaned, her own hands clumsy in her frantic effort.

Her bra went next and Steve stepped back, panting like she was, his hands falling to his belt to unbuckle, another thrill running through Darcy at the sight of him so worked up, and then her eyes fell to his cock that bobbed, remembering how he’d made her walk differently just that morning, that pleasant soreness after last night.

As rowdy as they were together before, she’d never seen him like this, mouth slack and eyes glazed with lust, spitting into his palm and slicking up his cock hastily, his other hand grabbing her to pull her closer, Darcy’s thighs spreading wider.

“You send that picture to any boys?” he asked, the crown of him brushing between her pussy lips, teasing her opening a little, Darcy’s face burning.

“N-no, just you,” she replied, their eyes locking. “Only you.”

He pushed inside her, Darcy’s back arching, wanting to draw him in further. He made her greedy, because she knew exactly how good it felt to be full to the hilt with him.

He moved further in, but not fast enough for Darcy, who was trying to do it for him, but Steve’s hand lay on her hip to keep her in place, her eyes falling shut as she huffed.

“A very mean trick you played on me today.”

“Wanted it,” Darcy whispered. “Wanted it again.”

He sounded perfectly composed while Darcy was practically begging him with her eyes when she opened them again, her hips stubbornly attempting to shift his cock. Steve’s eyes fell to where they met, his other hand lying flat on her stomach, his thumb brushing her throbbing clit.

Darcy gave another little huff.

“Wanted what again?” he murmured, thumb beginning to rub, Darcy’s lip between her teeth.

She let it go, suppressing an outright whine, giving him a needy little squeeze instead deep inside.

“You fucking me really hard,” she whispered, all on exhale.

She didn’t do the whole dirty talk thing well. For the most part, it made her too in her own head, second guessing herself, but it was the truth. She wanted more of last night. Now that she thought about it, her mind rapidly scrambling with her current compromised position, it would be helpful to be specific.

“I want you to make me messy.”

That’s what happened last night, in a blur of their bodies, everything sweaty, the air thick with sex. She’d stumbled into the bathroom after him to clean herself up, after she’d taken that secret photo with her phone, and even after that, she’d smelt of him for hours. She’d been achy and content, sated and wanted, sleeping with his arms circling her waist, his nose deep in her hair, only to have him duck out that morning like the last thing he wanted to do was be with her during daylight hours.

He leaned down, hitching her up, going deeper, Darcy’s breath leaving her in a rush. He bottomed out with a soft grunt, their noses brushing as Darcy adjusted, her hands in his hair.

“I ain’t mad about the picture,” he whispered, beginning to rock, shallow as Darcy licked her lips, forcing her eyes to keep open. “I got a little too excited at the time.”

“Oh, yeah?” Darcy said, and his lips pulled into a smile that showed his teeth, his hips pistoning, Darcy’s moan spilling forth.

Steve’s voice was strained.

“Yeah, a couple of the guys almost saw it, I think they knew what I’d got.”

He took hold of her wrists and rose them above her head, pinning them with ease, his other hand fastened to her hip, his fingers digging into her ass.

“Don’t wanna share you,” he whispered, kissing her on the mouth, ending it with her lip between his two.

“I’m yours,” she whispered back.

It might break the spell, she realized far too late. She stared back at him, wondering if he’d fuck her and then not come back. She knew they hadn’t dated, it wasn’t like she’d demanded they were exclusive before tonight. She hoped he wasn’t like other guys, picking her up and setting her down whenever he chose, like a toy.

“Yeah?” he said, and he picked up speed, his voice soft and tender.

Darcy felt like her heart was in her throat and she nodded at him, her hands flexing. He sunk into another kiss and Darcy was pinned beneath him, his pace turning relentless, and she flew with it, loving it, being lost in him.

She was crying out with each slam of him, the sound mostly muffled by his lips, until he was latching onto her neck, each rough drag of him so sweet, the sweat building between them.

Everything was sticky, and she didn’t know where it ended and her own slick began, but she loved it, near drunk with the pleasure of Steve fucking her in earnest, groaning by her ear as he let go of her wrists to grip her sides.

He pulled out of her without warning and she gave a little groan, hoping he wasn’t finishing, only for Steve to duck down, his mouth sealing over the cut of her to fuck her with his tongue, the sounds obscene. He sounded happy, groaning and rubbing his face in her, Darcy’s hands gripping his shoulders.

Her hips lifted and she came, feeling like she could cry, everything was so intense and fast, but she had hardly any time to recover as Steve flipped her over, pushing her ass in the air to tuck back inside her, hips snapping as Darcy yelped.

She grabbed his hand that rested on her ass.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop –”

He’d hesitated for a second, probably because of the surprised sound she’d made, and then she was burying her face in the couch, Steve hitting her deep inside, her toes curling.

“Fuck, yeah,” she panted.

He lasted another minute at most, giving a long moan behind gritted teeth, shoving as far into her as he could, his hands still fastened to her hips and ass for several moments after, the world still spinning…

Darcy sat up a little, glancing over her shoulder, Steve still inside her, his hand taking her by the chin and turning her more for a kiss, his breathless laugh on her lips.

When he finally slipped out, she could feel the trickle down her leg, the undeniable evidence of him left behind, and Steve took her by surprise, his fingers reaching out to touch, Darcy’s breath hitching, everything still sensitive.

“Gentle,” she whispered, their eyes meeting as she spoke.

Steve’s eyes were still dark, his fingers gliding through the mess.

“I’ll try to be…”

His fingers slid further up to reach her clit and Darcy sucked in a breath.

“But this is to make up for not staying for breakfast this morning,” he said, wet fingers circling. “I slept late ‘cause of you…”

“Were you nearly late because of me?” she whispered, and his eyes snapped to hers.

“Yeah,” he said. “But I wanna be thorough now. I got time…”

Darcy let out a breathy laugh he mimicked, his head ducking to kiss her on the mouth, lingering and soft.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumbl.com/)


	4. Darcy/Brock - Blindfolds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Anonymous:** I know it’s kind of a rare pair, but for kinktober, could you please do something with blindfolds for Taserbones? I just like to pretend that Brock can be redeemed through the power of orgasms

_A little bit dangerous, but baby, that's how I want it_  
_A little less conversation, and a little more touch my body_  
**\- "Into You" by Ariana Grande**

Darcy’s hands weren’t tied but she kept them behind her back anyway, since it felt like a test she could fail if she didn’t.

She couldn’t see for shit, which was the point of the blindfold he’d fastened around her head – a simple silk scarf of the deepest navy blue in Darcy’s collection of fun little toys she kept in a drawer in her bedroom.

She wondered how long it would take for her to start to complain out loud, hands balled into fists, hearing him circle her.

It turned out to be two minutes, more or less. She had a strong resolve, but not with Brock and his capable hands and mouth, his fingers tweaking a nipple while his other hand grabbed her jaw.

“Come on,” she hissed, and he chuckled, wicked enough for Darcy to feel herself get wetter with anticipation, hoping he’d do something with her mouth.

He had the ability to make her feel like less than dirt and his most prized possession all at once, especially when he sensed what she needed without second-guessing. She was the only one he showed any tenderness to, which she got in spades, in between the rough grasps of his hands.

She let out a breath of a laugh, knowing she could smell his musk, meaning he was about to –

He filled her mouth with his cock in a swift jerk of his hips, Darcy’s mouth wide, and she gave a little cough in surprise, a reflex, before she relaxed her jaw and throat. He was gliding slowly at first, not to hurt her. He’d pick up speed soon, and then Darcy would be dripping all over the place, with spit down her front and arousal down her thighs.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and Darcy moaned, good girl that she was, grateful for the praise and attention.

She would otherwise roll her eyes at herself, getting off on a man fucking her throat, but there wasn’t room for shame here. There never had been.

To her surprise, he pulled out, hands leaving her face. Her breath coming in pants, she whispered:

“Huh?”

His hand shoved down the front of her underwear and Darcy grunted in surprise, her thighs almost snapping shut, but his other hand forced them open, her clit rubbed with a thumb in precise circles as her breath hitched.

With the blindfold on, all she could feel was his hand, it was harder to hold everything off. She rocked her hips to meet him, two fingers shoved inside her, her body greedy, and then she was shuddering –

Her climax slammed into her, and she managed to hear the little groan that ebbed from his lips, the sound of his fingers fucking her hard and fast louder and wet, and she wished she could see the mess, but that would be a nice image for later.

She could tell it was going to be a long night by how he shoved his cock down her throat again with little preamble.

She couldn’t keep the smile from her face even when her mouth was full.

"Good girl..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	5. Darcy/Wanda - Public Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **etherealidiot said:** well maybe just something like Wanda and Darcy in a locker room. Wanda is pushed a row of lockers with her leg over Darcy’s shoulder. She’s having a hard time keeping quiet. i don’t know... just a suggestion.
> 
> It's the least I can do for Wanda, for crying out loud

_And I need you to be my motor_  
_And run me 'til I can't go further_  
_'Cause every turn you take is just exciting me_  
**\- "Hit the Back" by King Princess**

This was not Darcy’s idea.

It might not look that way, especially in the position she was in, but Wanda was the one that messaged her to come find her in the women’s locker room past midnight. Darcy wasn’t clueless – it was pretty obvious what Wanda was after when she hit her up.

It didn’t stop Darcy from telling her off a little, huffing as she pushed Wanda into the locker behind her, the Sokovian’s grin bared, Darcy’s mouth on her cheek and further down her jaw to latch onto her pulse point.

She was fresh from her shower, skin pink and warm, Darcy’s glasses further smudged as her hands slipped under Wanda’s shirt to feel her sides, gliding further up to settle on her chest, squeezing with a mixture of affection and reprimand.

“I was in the _middle of something_ –”

“I missed you,” Wanda whispered, and Darcy could hear the grin of triumph on her face, the same face that made her weak at the knees.

She’d gladly let this woman ruin her life. She’d run to her side no matter what. She moved back to kiss her mouth, Wanda’s moan muffled. Darcy licked into her mouth, moving her hands around. It helped that Wanda was in her loose-fitting clothes she often wore to bed, and there wasn’t much to tug at before Darcy reached sweeter, secret places that made Wanda start to shake in her arms.

“I don’t have a hair tie,” Darcy muttered, a little annoyed, remembering hers had snapped earlier today and she’d tossed it in her trash under her desk.

“Take mine,” Wanda whispered, and Darcy did, pulling back to quickly secure her long hair away from her face, before dropping to her knees.

Wanda stared down at her, that dazzling smile shining above Darcy as she tugged down her sweatpants, halfway down her thighs, Darcy’s lips on her bare skin, hands gliding to meet her hips.

She was glad Wanda had locked the door with a simple flick of her wrist when Darcy pinned her to the lockers, a swirl of red emitting from her fingertips, because she had no intention of slowing down, not with the breathy sounds Wanda was making, her hands on Darcy’s shoulder and in her hair.

Darcy licked up the cut of her, burying her face there, that familiar taste back again. She’d missed her, too, her eyes closing as she sunk into the act of making love with her tongue and mouth. Wanda’s hips were lifting, rolling every so often as Darcy laved her with her tongue. It was messy and rushed, Wanda’s fingers turning into claws.

“Shh,” Darcy whispered, pulling back, her chin wet.

She didn’t want anyone hearing them in there. There might be an incident report filed and then they’d be barred from the women’s locker room.

She shoved Wanda’s pants down and off her ankles, surging up to cover her mouth with her hand, lifting Wanda’s thigh up until her leg was over her shoulder, her other foot on tip-toe, her body sliding further up the locker she was pinned to.

Darcy’s hand slipped between them, pushing two fingers into the wet clutch of Wanda’s cunt, Wanda’s eyes squeezing shut as Darcy’s hand moved hard and fast, knowing exactly what it did to her.

Her face was flushed, her hands gripping Darcy’s arms, and the sound of how wet she was mingled with the panting breath coming from her nose. She was so beautiful and wounded when she came, hips rolling, legs shaking, and Darcy felt a bloom of pride in her chest.

She pulled her hand away from Wanda’s mouth, their lips colliding in a urgent kiss, Wanda’s sweaty hands now on Darcy’s face and chasing her tongue to suck on it.

With the superior strength she had, Wanda spun them so Darcy was backed into the locker now, hands grabbing for the fly of her jeans, popping the button. Her hand was shoved down the front of her underwear, pinching Darcy’s throbbing clit, Darcy’s breath hitching.

“Gimme the hair tie,” Wanda said, and Darcy nodded, hands scrambling. “I don’t have another one.”

It went like that for quite a while, back and forth, until it was decided Wanda needed another shower.

“Missed you,” Darcy slurred, sexdrunk and blissful, their foreheads together as the water hit her shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	6. Darcy/Steve - Mirrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It keep writing these two hooking up in exceedingly dumber places and I'm not sorry

_So don't tell_  
_I swear I won't tell on you_  
_On you_  
_Don't tell_  
_I swear I won't tell_  
**\- "Don't Tell" by Royal Blood**

None of it was ideal. The room was barely lit, everything was cramped. Darcy was certain that no-one had cleaned in there for some time.

Why would they? No-one ever used this janitor’s closet, as far as she knew, except to throw supplies in. She was distracted anyway. It wasn’t about whether or not this was a good idea. That was highly subjective.

They only got as far as the closet when Steve was reunited with her in the hallway outside the labs, their mouths meeting, and Darcy was barely able to keep the desperation out of her touch or voice. She hadn’t realized how much she’d worried about him until she saw him staying there, alive and more or less well.

He tugged her into the closet and locked the door, after pushing her into it to kiss her, hands all over her sweater and ass.

She loved him like this, riled up and taut with desire, everything hungry and messy. She was tugged toward the tiny sink in front of a dirty, cracked mirror, her hands resting on the ceramic as Steve was yanking down her leggings, the cool air hitting Darcy’s bare ass as she heard him fumbling with his fly, his mouth on her neck, teeth grazing.

Her eyes fell to his face in the mirror, and he was so handsome beside her she closed her eyes, a wave of self-consciousness hitting her at the worst time, when he was about to push inside her. His hand came up to cover her mouth, Darcy’s cry muffled as he filled her to the hilt after a few shallow thrusts.

He moved hard and slow at first, Darcy’s hips knocking into the sink, her calves flexing as she stood on tip-toe. With each beat of his body against hers, she moaned, trapped and lost in him.

She knew she’d ache afterwards, she’d go back to her desk and pretend nothing happened, Steve’s mess deep inside her.

He cupped her with little warning, middle finger pressing down on her clit as his thrusts sped up, the sound of the patting of their bodies no longer soft, more like a resounding slap –

Darcy crumbled, coming so hard she almost doubled over, Steve catching her and going still, kissing the side of her face. He'd watched her reflection when she came.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, words all sweet and light when his thrusts, all sharp and harsh, had resumed a breath later.

She couldn’t stay upright to save her life, so she was thankful for the sink to lean against, Steve’s strong arms keeping her propped up as he climbed that mountain, his hand still sealed over her mouth to smother her keening.

He shoved hard into her with a grunt, managing to surprise Darcy as she felt his cock jump inside her. They were both panting as he took his hand away, turning her face toward his for a kiss.

Darcy rose a hand to clutch his face, gliding her fingers over that jawline that she couldn’t stop staring at.

Everything was tender and gentle, and somewhere beyond their little bubble, Darcy could feel his come drooling out of her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	7. Darcy/Steve - Cunnilingus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Shieldshock friends to lovers college AU inspired by both Em_Jaye and [this silly game we play, play](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26006038) by Ellerigby13. It wasn't asked for but it was one of those fics that took over my brain for way too long to ignore.
> 
> Also, this isn't anti-Ian. I realize he's low hanging fruit but don't read into it too much.
> 
> And yeah, I'm quoting Taylor Swift, get off my dick

_Can I go where you go?_  
_Can we always be this close forever and ever?_  
**\- "Lover" by Taylor Swift**

Darcy couldn’t look Ian in the eye during sex.

She didn’t know when she stopped that, but it always made her cringe inwardly, and she’d snap her eyes shut to fake ecstasy or to just avoid being trapped in his gaze. She chased his mouth for a kiss, their noses mashing together, Ian straining, and she didn’t enjoy it.

She didn’t know how much longer she could keep the act up, but she could feel her mind drifting like it tended to do at these times. She thought about her essay due in a few days, and wondered if she needed to tweak her opening remark.

Ian was moving back, tugging her this way and that, but she couldn’t find the grain to work against. She couldn’t enjoy it, she was too distracted by how sad this charade was. She could be doing down to the mess hall to get some fries, if the kitchen was still open. Now that she thought about it, it was after eleven, so no, she’d instead have to go to her favorite vending machine in the hall, or grab a pack of Kraft mac n’ cheese from the back of her closet where she kept emergency stashes of snacks, booze and the occasional joint.

She chased his mouth again for a proper kiss, but it was all lips and no precision, he was too lost in her to find a decent rhythm and she hated it, not being able to get a kiss she even liked. She huffed, losing patience and she moved her head back, Ian taking it as a sign to kiss her neck by how she angled away.

“I think we should break up,” she said aloud.

Ian’s hips stalled and he pulled back, eyes meeting hers. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. It wasn’t even the third. Darcy and Ian were on and off, and they’d been on for two months straight this time, but she hadn’t found a lot to hold onto. She saw the hurt on his face, and the confusion.

“What can I do?” he said, pulling out of her, and Darcy shifted, slipping out from under him, picking up her underwear from the floor to pull them back on. “Darcy, talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” she said, suddenly so tired. “We tried it, and it didn’t work –”

“I thought it was working,” Ian said, looking away, and Darcy recognized he was shocked.

He sucked in a breath, and Darcy swallowed, wondering if he might cry and beg her to reconsider. It happened last time, when he’d told her he’d missed her over the summer. She’d missed him, in the sense that she noticed his absence, but she hadn’t craved him like in some romance novel. Darcy knew the real world was far less sensuous and romantic, at least for her, that seemed to be her lot in life, but she wasn’t going to do this to herself again. It was exhausting.

“It’s not,” she murmured, pulling on the rest of her clothes.

He was still half lying, half sitting on her bed, and Darcy glanced his way, waiting.

“Ian,” she began, and he sucked in another breath.

He picked up his clothes, tugging them on. Darcy settled on the edge of her bed, watching him. She thought she’d feel something more, something like regret or anxiety that she’d have to start over again with someone else, but she felt strangely calm.

Outwardly, she kept her face as neutral as possible, watching as Ian picked up his shoes instead of putting them back on, walking the short distance to her doorway. He lingered, glancing her way.

“Bye.”

“Bye,” Darcy replied.

He probably deserved a better explanation. She thought about pulling him back by the wrist, explaining every little thing, but that seemed cruel now. He was barely keeping it in, his face twisting as he left her.

Her opened and shut her door, Darcy’s eyes swinging toward the ceiling as she sighed.

-

Darcy slipped into the desk beside Jane’s in the lecture theater, flopping her bag down on the floor, sighing as she felt her best friend’s eyes on her.

“You’re late,” Jane whispered, as their professor underlined a particular date on the blackboard.

“I thought about skipping,” Darcy muttered, taking out her laptop and opening it.

They had this conversation at least once a week. Darcy was always late to this particular lecture, because it was Friday at 8AM. What kind of psychotic professor thought that was a good idea, especially for seniors? He was lucky anyone rolled in for tests let alone lifted their heads from their desks before 10AM.

Jane’s eyes flitted over Darcy’s face and she paused, her pen poised. She rarely used her laptop to take notes, instead opting for her large notepad and spiral folder to store everything in. It didn’t mean she had the best penmanship, but she refused to spend the money on something to type on.

“Ian and I broke up,” Darcy whispered, and Jane made a face.

“Again?”

“If you see him, I’m a total mess over it,” Darcy said.

As little as she wanted to salvage that relationship, she thought she’d cut Ian some slack, especially when she realized he’d gone back to his dorm with the condom probably still on, crying.

Jane smirked a little, eyes swinging back to their professor.

After a few minutes of silence between them, Darcy felt Jane’s foot tap hers.

“So you won’t be coming to Sam’s party tomorrow?”

It took Darcy a few seconds to understand what she meant, her brows furrowing, before she remembered Sam Wilson’s Halloween party that Saturday. She had intended to go with Ian, but she could never convince him to agree to a couple’s costume. She’d decided on a witch costume, and earlier that week she’d been a little pissed about it, but now that she was single she didn’t know if she could muster the courage to show off some witty or sexy getup.

She’d been with Ian so long she’d dreaded this stage again, of being open to embarrassment. When you were with someone in a long-term relationship, you actually had less at stake.

“Steve’ll be there,” Jane added, when Darcy said nothing.

Darcy kept her eyes to the front, biting her lip, doing her best impression of nonchalance. Her voice gave her away, a little snippy.

“And he’ll probably be there with Sharon or Bethany Albright or some junior –”

“I might see him in the library today,” Jane interjected. “I could casually drop the news that you and Ian have broken up…”

Darcy closed her eyes, willing herself not to snap. She didn’t need their classmates overhearing this bullshit conversation. She’d had it enough times with Jane to know it back to front.

Steve Rogers was a sweetheart and out of her league, and he had been for the last two years when he came back from the summer after their freshman year a whole foot taller with a hundred pounds more of muscles. She’d met him the first week of school, nearly running into him when she was carrying a box up from her mom’s car.

He’d only been an inch taller than her at most, but even then he was beautiful, and so kind.

Darcy wasn’t used to it, a guy being nice to her without some motive behind it. She grew up faster than some of the other girls in her grade at school because her chest filled out fast in middle school, and she had the habit of hiding until she got to the tail end of high school.

She only started making real friends just before high school when she found out not every popular girl actually hated her, they’d mostly misinterpreted her introverted ways for being stuck-up. She lost her virginity at a party and she thought college would be fun that way, with lots of new people, boys she hadn’t grown up with...

Except when she got there she was shy and unsure, overwhelmed by all these new faces that she was convinced were way more put together than her, so sure of their paths in life.

“Sorry,” she gasped, stumbling with her box of books, hating that she’d flushed with embarrassment.

“My fault, I was running,” he replied, hand on the box, steadying it. “You okay?”

“I need the workout,” Darcy said, smiling a little, and he copied her. “I’m Darcy.”

“You – you sure you’re okay?” he asked, and she nodded, stepping aside. “I’m Steve.”

“Hi, Steve,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him, beginning to walk back to her room further down the hall.

They’d hung out a lot over the first few weeks, and Darcy sensed they needed one another in the sea of uncertainty. Steve said it was the first time he’d ever been away from home, and Darcy appreciated his honesty. She’d thought about asking him out, but it didn’t feel right, when they’d only just begun to get to know each other, for her to cheapen their friendship like that.

Of course she regretted it. She met Ian and they dated, and then Steve changed into a different person. Physically, not emotionally or mentally, which Darcy was so thankful for. He still stayed in the dorm down the corridor to hers, and occasionally she hung out with him to watch a movie.

In the last year she’d heard all types of rumors, about girls he’d gone out with. She couldn’t keep track and she didn’t ask. He didn’t ask about Ian.

It was like that part of their lives was off-limits to discuss, and Darcy preferred it that way. He didn’t need to hear about all the angst Ian brought her.

After the lecture, Jane nudged her with her elbow, hitching her books further up her hip.

“So... you and Ian, what was it this time?” she murmured, and Darcy let out a mirthless chuckle.

“We were hanging out and I kept thinking about the time I was wasting having sex with him when I could be eating or writing my essay,” Darcy muttered.

They were walking across the grass in front of the science building, until they found a spot under a tree for them to sit down.

“That’s depressing,” Jane said.

“I kept telling myself it was probably me, tried to make it my fault,” Darcy murmured, settling into the grass, glancing over at the group of boys tossing a football in the distance.

Her stomach flipped when she recognized Steve among them, eyes averting before he could spot her, but Jane was raising a hand to wave at them, grinning wide.

“Jane.”

“What, Thor’s there, I’m waving to Thor,” Jane said innocently.

Jane’s boyfriend Thor gave her a wave back, grinning from ear to ear, his blonde hair shining in the mid-morning sun. Sam, who was holding the ball, took the opportunity to toss it Thor’s way, the ball bouncing off one of his massive arms.

When Jane put her hand down, she kept her eyes on the boys as she spoke to Darcy:

“I always wondered why Steve never paid me any attention.”

Darcy scoffed. “You’ve got Thor.”

“Steve is definitely my type,” she murmured, finally glancing away, turning her attention back to Darcy. “He’d be anyone’s type.”

“True,” Darcy said. “But he’s outta reach.”

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Jane said. “I meant that he had every chance to flirt with me but he doesn’t, he only ever asked about you. Like last week, I was at Brooke’s party at Delta Sigma and Steve was there –”

“Who does he know at Delta Sigma?” Darcy cut in, not wanting to know but her curiosity getting to her.

“Some girls, but he asked after you. Spent half an hour next to me talking about _you_ , Darcy. Only you.”

Darcy let her eyes wander back toward the group of boys, who were yelling and tossing the football. Bucky shoved Steve, Steve stumbling with the ball tucked under his arm, and Darcy’s eyes lingered.

Despite the fresh October air, Steve’s face had a sheen of sweat that made him glow, his face pulling into a smile as he tossed the ball Sam’s way, smacking Bucky’s arm in retaliation. He rose an arm to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand, panting.

“You have to come to the party tomorrow,” Jane said, interrupting Darcy’s reverie.

Darcy’s head whipped toward her. “No.”

“Oh, come on, Darce,” Jane half-groaned. “It’s perfect. Finally, you’re single. And you’re not getting back with Ian. Unless -?”

“Ugh, no,” Darcy said, grimacing. “We are never, ever _ever_ getting back together.”

“You said that last time.”

“I really mean it this time,” Darcy insisted, eyes widening slightly. “Seriously. I don’t miss him.”

“You said that as well!” Jane retorted, beginning to laugh.

The football suddenly appeared in Darcy’s line of sight and she reeled back with a squeal, Jane doing the same, the ball ricocheting off of the tree and rolling to the ground behind them. They both threw the boys glares across the grass, Darcy’s face softening when she saw Steve was running over, looking sheepish.

“Sorry, Buck’s a butterfingers,” he muttered, stooping to pick up the ball.

The tossed it effortlessly to Thor, who was winking Jane’s way. Darcy was distracted by how Steve’s upper body had twisted and flexed as he threw the ball, his shirt lifting a little at the side to show a flash of his pale stomach.

“S’okay,” Darcy managed to say, only because it was him.

If Bucky had come to retrieve it she would have scooped up the ball and made a run for it as payback. Not that she would get that far, and even if she managed to stow the ball in a ladies bathroom, Nat was bound to find out and take pity on Bucky, since he was her one weakness.

She suspected it was a deliberate move, by how Bucky’s eyes met hers and he smirked, glancing away at Sam who tossed him the ball.

“You coming tomorrow night?” Steve asked, and Darcy’s eyes snapped to meet his.

He was standing over her now, hands on his slender hips. Darcy shrugged a little, trying to form a response, unsure of which route to take.

“She’s not exactly in the partying mood,” Jane injected.

“You get your grade back for the libertarian socialism paper?” Steve asked Darcy. “I’m sure you did fine –”

“She broke up with Ian last night,” Jane said, and Darcy finally looked at her.

“Jane.”

“What, you did,” Jane said, shrugging.

“Sorry to hear it,” Steve said, and Darcy glanced back at him to gauge his reaction, and he was hard to read.

“Long time coming,” she mumbled, not looking him in the eye. “I don’t feel like going to a kegger. No offense to Sam.”

“Sure he wouldn’t mind,” Steve said. He dropped his voice. “Kinda hoped to see you, though, Darce.”

They hadn’t hung out in a few weeks. The best she could manage was sharing her notes with him every couple of days, seeing him in class, seeing him on campus in passing. Darcy had mostly kept her head down, but now that she was more honest, she’d been avoiding him for the most part. She’d missed him, but she’d had Ian and he’d had those girls he was hooking up with.

Darcy picked up her bag, standing up. Jane’s lips parted to say something but she put up her hand, forcing a little smile.

“I have to go. I should get to class,” she said. She glanced at Steve, feeling a twist in her guts. “I’ll see you around.”

She turned her heel, walking away, hearing him say:

“See you, Darce.”

She didn’t want to think about how obvious it was that she was running away, when she had another two hours until her next class.

-

Darcy moped in her next class, Nat slotting in beside her, smelling faintly of Bucky’s cologne. Those two seemed to only ever be screwing, Darcy had always been jealous of them that way.

They seemed to enjoy one another which Darcy could not relate to. With Ian, it was always her waiting for him to change, to take note, to be more mature, to be different in every sense. When she first met him, she’d been charmed by how earnest he was, but it only made her uncomfortable now. She never suspected Nat or Bucky of being needy with one another. They’d managed to keep their relationship under wraps for a while to begin with, until Nat blurted it to her during class seemingly out of nowhere, which was completely out of character of her.

Nat combed her fingers through her red long bob, glancing Darcy’s way, giving a little smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Darcy replied, slumped on her desk, chin in her hand. “I don’t wanna know.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Nat said, smirking, a mischievous twinkle in her eye of someone who’d had a good time. Her cheeks were flushed. “Except –”

“What,” Darcy mumbled.

“Except I heard you’re not coming to the party. Because you broke up with Ian,” Nat said, and Darcy gave a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Word travels fast.”

“No shit,” she muttered. “Did Steve tell you or Jane?”

“Actually, it was Quill. He heard it from either Gamora or –”

“Great, so everyone’s all up in my shit,” Darcy grumbled. “For the record, I am upset about Ian.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” Nat muttered, flipping her laptop open. “You got the notes for last week -?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Darcy hissed, but she began to laugh. “I’ll make a Google Doc. Jesus, everyone is always asking for my notes –”

“Because they’re the best,” Nat said, shrugging. “Why not share them?”

They spent most of the lesson not talking, and it was only when the professor dismissed them before Nat rose from her chair, turning her body toward Darcy expectantly.

“So, you’re definitely coming tomorrow night,” she said, and Darcy frowned at her.

“No. I’ll be miserable. And me miserable plus liquor is the worst idea ever.”

There was a beat as Darcy shoved her laptop into her bag, hitching it over her shoulder.

“Also, Ian might show up.”

Nat gave her a knowing look. It was pretty infuriating how good she was at reading people, and every so often she came up with these very accurate observations about everyone, and Darcy always dreaded whatever bitter pill she was offered.

“So you’re just gonna stay in your room all night, alone and sad?” Nat said.

Darcy hunched a little, frowning further.

“Yeah. No big deal.”

-

She decorated her door that night, putting up orange crepe paper jack-o-lanterns and fake cob webs, fixing a couple rubber spiders.

She loved Halloween. It was the one night a year anyone could be anything they wanted, and leading up to it meant she had an excuse to eat Halloween-themed candies and donuts and watch some of her favorite movies, some nights going so far as to watch the same movie twice.

She planned on watching a bunch of movies, a marathon alone while she binged on candy, instead of going to Sam’s party. There would be more parties, and people usually got wasted enough that the night was usually fuzzy around the edges. Darcy convinced herself she wouldn’t miss out on much.

On Saturday afternoon, Halloween, Darcy’s phone chimed with a couple texts from Steve. Darcy was at her desk, editing a paragraph of her essay due Monday. She felt her tummy flip as she unlocked her phone, opening her texts.

**_Wanna hang out later? Maybe watch a movie?_ **

Darcy stared down at his words. It was to the point, he wasn’t dancing around things. He didn’t even ask her how she was, he was straight into it. Darcy wasn’t used to that. When she scrolled up to see the last conversation they’d had, it was about class, dumb little jokes between them weeks ago.

Darcy wished she hadn’t missed him.

 ** _What about Sam’s party?_** , she wrote back.

His response was immediate.

**_He’ll have another one next weekend._ **

Darcy still hesitated, rolling her lip between her teeth. The most that could happen was her maybe telling him she missed him, and she’d eat too much sugar and crash midway through a movie, their shoulders brushing as they sat on her bed together –

The thought of him being that close to her made butterflies form in her stomach, her heartbeat picking up speed.

 ** _Okay, I’ll see you at 8_** , she sent back, letting out a shaky breath as she realized what she’d agreed to.

She checked the time, seeing she had a few hours to spare. She immediately dialed Jane’s number and put her phone to her ear, grimacing when her best friend picked up.

“Hey, is this a bad time?”

“Thor just came over –”

“Oh, great, good to know,” Darcy mumbled, but then she backpedaled. “Sorry, it’s just – _fuck_ , I just told Steve he could come over tonight to watch a movie. He asked _me_ if he could come over…”

“Oh, my God,” Jane gasped, and Darcy closed her eyes, feeling her face flush.

“I’m trying to not read into it.”

“Uh, are you fucking kidding me? This is it! It’s finally happening!” Jane shrieked. “Do you need rubbers or anything -?”

“I regret this, _I regret this_ ,” Darcy sing-songed, pulling the phone away from her ear. She yelled vaguely toward her phone. “I’m going now! I’ll text you later.”

She hung up, groaning as she put her face in her hands.

-

Darcy couldn’t decide whether or not to wear her glasses. The rest of her outfit was fine. She wore a favorite t-shirt with the _Ghostbusters_ symbol on the front, fitting for the occasion, her best push-up bra underneath. She stood in front of the tiny, thin mirror inside her closet door and turned to the left and right, aware that it was close to eight o’clock.

She could already hear other people’s parties going on around campus. Her floor alone had several songs overlapping one another. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, but Darcy was nervous and trying to not be inside her own head. It was next to impossible, especially when Jane was sending her nothing but encouragements for the last few hours.

She heard the knock on her door and she jumped, keeping her glasses on as she dashed toward the door, wrenching it open.

“Hey,” Steve said, leaning against the door frame, towering over her.

His eyes fell to her shirt and he smiled.

“Are we watching that?”

“We could. Unless you want something actually spooky,” Darcy replied, side-stepping so he could walk in.

“I still haven’t seen _It Follows_ ,” he said, and Darcy’s eyes snapped to his, her brows lifting.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, remember we promised to watch it together?” he said without missing a beat, and Darcy nodded, remembering.

That was months ago when they made that promise. She felt a ripple of guilt among her excited nerves, but Steve didn’t seem to bothered, moving to sit on her bed, the mattress creaking under his heft. Darcy jutted her thumb behind her, hand on her hip because she didn’t know what to do with it.

“You want a drink?”

Darcy had her mini fridge, a worthwhile investment when she came back sophomore year. She’d spent the first few weeks she had it in her possession restocking it because she was binge-eating her feelings, since Steve had come back a totally different size and shape and she didn’t know what else to do about it to cope.

She ducked down before he replied to retrieve a beer, handing it to him wordlessly, and he took it with a little smile. She grabbed a half bottle of vodka she was pretty sure Nat had stowed there some time ago after a party, and she filled up a little cup a couple fingers full, cracking open a can of Sprite as a chaser.

There was some fumbling while Darcy set up her laptop on her chair, scooting it toward the bed, opening up her Netflix queue, a silent prayer in her head that the Wi-Fi would be working. Thankfully, her list loaded and she scrolled through it, opening the movie and maximizing the screen.

She settled down beside Steve, taking a gulp of vodka, making herself immediately shudder, before she took a swig of Sprite to fortify herself.

“Yuck.”

They were quiet as the movie began to unfold, and Darcy could tell it was going to get under her skin. She rarely watched horror movies, she was more interested in _Practical Magic_ or _Beetlejuice_ during this time of year. She shifted in her seat uneasily, sipping more vodka as Steve’s beer was at his lips.

“I’m waiting for a jump scare,” Darcy whispered, and there was one, seconds later, but she jolted all the same, squeezing her eyes shut. “I hate it, I hate it…”

Steve chuckled beside her and she shot him a look, narrowing her eyes.

“Could be worse,” he murmured. “We could be seeing this in a theater full of screaming kids…”

“I like this better,” Darcy murmured, her eyes on the screen.

“Yeah, me, too,” Steve said, his voice softer.

It felt like before, when they’d do this every few days years ago. He’d swing by with flecks of paint on his hands and they’d watch something together in spans of comfortable silence, every so often interrupting it for a drink break or to split a joint.

Darcy’s mind wandered, thinking about whether or not he did this with other girls. She tried to steer away from it, but she thought about Sharon, the blonde she saw on his arm a few times. And then there was Bethany, and the other ones whose names Darcy didn’t recall…

Steve shifted slightly, one of his hands going between his shoulder blades as he tugged his sweater over his head, a portion of his bare back showing, and Darcy’s eyes darted back to the screen, draining the rest of her vodka. She sipped more Sprite as Steve settled back down again, sighing.

Darcy had lost track of the movie for several seconds before she realized she was going to get scared again, a spike of anxiety following soon after, and she held her breath.

“Oh, God. Her friend’s gonna open the door and…”

She braced for it, and nothing happened, and she let out a breath of a relief. Then, with a dramatic surge of the soundtrack, a creature appeared and Darcy let out a yelp, turning her head away, unable to watch.

“I hate it, I hate it, I hate it,” she whispered, smothering her face in Steve’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Steve said, but there was so much screaming coming from her laptop that she didn’t believe him, and she didn’t dare turn her face toward the screen to watch more.

When she heard the soundtrack mellow out, she drew in a breath, smelling Steve’s familiar scent, and she pulled her face away, realizing what she’d done.

She froze, blinking up at him, his face so close to hers she could feel his breath on her skin, and she felt his hand on her arm, rubbing.

His eyes were searching her face, his lashes so long, his eyes still a captivating blue in the semi-dark of her bedroom. Only her lamp was on, and the laptop screen.

His hand slid further down her arm, Darcy’s lips parting as Steve’s head dropped slightly, their noses brushing.

The movie and the music from the outside world melted away when Steve kissed her, her lip between his two, and Darcy sighed, eyes closing on impact. His hand gave her arm a squeeze, his lips moving against hers into something more, his head tilting as he began to lick inside her mouth.

His hand moved up to clutch her face, his tongue slipping into her mouth, Darcy’s breath hitching, her cup between them as he pressed into her chest, lips smacking.

They separated to put their drinks aside, and Steve’s hands were back on her a second later, holding her face to kiss her with the kind of hunger Darcy hadn’t felt before. Her face burned with longing, his shirt in her fists as he drank from her.

They were panting, pulling back with their lips still bumping, Darcy’s heart in her throat.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, before he could ask. “Please don’t stop…”

Her words seemed to spur him on, and he swung her around, surprising her as he lay her down beneath him, cuddling her as he kissed her breathless, Darcy’s thigh hitching over his hip. He slotted between her open legs and Darcy gasped. The warm weight of him was something she’d tried to not fantasize about over the years, and now it was happening, the buzz of the vodka making her second-guess it. Maybe she’d wake up drooling on his shoulder, confused and groggy, and none of this was real.

By the way he kissed her, possessive and thorough enough to make Darcy honest to God _whimper_ , it had to be real. It had to be.

He drew back for breath once more, one of his hands slipping under the back of her shirt, fingers splayed on her back, his other pushing the hair from her eyes. Her glasses were foggy and Darcy tugged them off, tossing them aside, Steve’s eyes following the movement.

His eyes fell to hers and he hovered again, not quite closing his mouth as he kissed her, slower than before. It made Darcy’s hips roll, her hands shifting up his back to try to pull him into her. She wanted everything at once, and she didn’t have enough hands to touch him everywhere she wanted simultaneously…

“I’ve wanted this a really long time,” he whispered, and Darcy blinked up at him, slowing down, her tummy flipping.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“Me, too,” Darcy whispered.

The smile he gave her was almost too much, and Darcy kissed him hard, and he groaned, hand flexing on her skin, his other now gripping the bed sheet. He kissed her back, getting the upper hand, moving down to mouth at her throat, their hips rolling together.

She could feel he was hard against her crotch, biting her lip as he made his descent, his nose brushing over her shirt as he crawled further down the bed, hands gliding down to Darcy’s hips as he settled between her legs.

The silence between them was tense with anticipation, the background noise the laptop and the bass from their dorm neighbors’ music.

Darcy lifted her hips as he pulled down her leggings, and she couldn’t believe it was happening. First he was kissing her, and now his face was level with her pussy, opening his mouth to lick along her folds.

Darcy gulped, feeling her thighs already begin to shake, as he swirled his tongue around her clit, arms wrapping around her legs.

“Fuck, Steve –”

Her heels dug into the mattress as he began to suck and roll his tongue around, nose pressed into her pubic hair, Darcy’s eyes toward the ceiling.

He wasn’t going to make her come. Ian had never managed it down there. It was a sad history, Darcy’s experiences with guys eating her out. She thought maybe there was something wrong with her, but then –

Steve moaned and Darcy’s eyes swiveled down, seeing him give her everything, his tongue deep in her cunt as he breathed her in, his hot breath making Darcy shiver, her hands fists by her sides.

“What the fuck,” she whispered, wondering how the hell Steve was managing this.

He was humming into her skin, slurping noises following that made Darcy blush, and she was thankful for the laptop and the music outside covering it. She began to moan, unable to keep it in anymore, her pleasure curling deep inside her guts, heat pooling there as Steve kept going.

She began to rock, shifting so Steve was at the ideal angle. She was melting, struggling to contain her need to rub her cunt all over his pretty face. At some point, she’d transferred her hand to his head, her fingers deep in his hair, tugging him as he worked his mouth against her.

She shivered with pleasure, feeling slippery and tight all over, desperate for relief, writhing against him, Steve’s arms fastened to her thighs.

Her vision darkened as her back bowed, riding his face as she came, Steve determined to stay there through it all, until she was panting and grabbing at his arms in attempt to peel them away.

“Steve, Steve…”

He pulled back, panting like she was, and he was a mess, turning his face to wipe his mouth on his shoulder, leaving a wet patch behind, and his chest was heaving, his eyes glazed.

She grabbed him by the shirt, tugging him up, both of them yanking it off to toss aside, and then they were onto Darcy’s shirt.

Darcy hoped she’d remember how his face changed at the sight of her bare chest when she unclasped her bra and tossed it aside, his mouth surging to hers for a kiss, arms wrapping around her waist as he lay on top of her once more.

Chest to chest felt incredible, Darcy was so wanted and safe, but she wasn’t _bored_ , and it was such a relief she thought she could cry. Her hands slipped down and she lay her palm on his crotch, giving a light squeeze as Steve moaned, tussling with her.

“You got a rubber?” she whispered, and he nodded, pulling back, Darcy’s hands on his hard stomach, her nails grazing a vein she found that disappeared past his waistband.

He retrieved a condom from his wallet, which Darcy took as Steve leaned back on his knees to tug off his pants.

She hadn’t expected him to be big. She stared, imagining the stretch, putting the condom to her mouth to tear it open with her teeth…

She leaned forward, invading his space, ducking down to wrap her hand around his base as her lips sealed around the crown of him, suckling as Steve let out a soft groan of surprise.

“Darce…”

She took him to the back of her throat, sucking and pulling at him, twisting her grip around his shaft, and he moaned louder than before. She could taste the saltiness of his precome, could smell his musk, his balls heavy in her other hand as she palmed them, Steve’s hand slipping down to grip her ass, his other on the back of her neck.

“Darce,” he said again, more urgent. “I wanna… _fuck_ , I wanna –”

Darcy pulled back and he kissed her on the mouth, Darcy falling backwards as he moved between her thighs again, taking the condom from her and putting it on. Darcy guided him by the shaft, their noses brushing as she felt the thrill of anticipation run through her once more.

They were both silent as he pushed up against her, the tip of him inching inside, and Darcy held her breath, Steve sinking into her –

They both gasped as he filled her in a few short thrusts, arms wrapping around one another, Darcy’s words tumbling out:

“You feel so good…”

He began to rock, Darcy’s hips angling to meet his, and he took her in sharp thrusts, and she was glad he wasn’t gentle or hesitating. He kept kissing her all over, unable to keep still, hitting a spot deep inside that drew ragged breaths from them both, the sweat gathering between them as the pleasure mounted fast –

“I’m a little bit too excited,” he panted, drawing back, shaking his head.

Darcy realized he was apologizing to her, and she shook her head, holding his face in her hands.

“Keep going, I want you to come,” she whispered. “Keep going…”

He dissolved into a moan, moving faster, burying his face in her neck as he clung to her. Darcy gripped him by the back of the neck, her other hand gripping his arm. She was holding on for dear life, as he moved without reprieve, and she was so full –

“Fuck,” he gasped, and he went rigid, groaning into her damp neck, lips brushing her skin.

She felt him twitch inside her as he came, his massive shoulders rolling, and Darcy sighed along with him, returning the slow kiss he gave he when he emerged.

Darcy lay on her back, Steve’s cheek resting on her chest as her hands stroked his hair, their eyes meeting when he tilted his head toward her.

“Crazy we hadn’t done that before,” she whispered.

“I get it, it’s fine,” he said, and she frowned.

“What…?”

“I wasn’t exactly… I was a little dweeb when we met,” he muttered, and Darcy took hold of his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye when he tried to avert his gaze.

“No, Steve. I always had a crush on you,” she whispered.

He stared at her, throat bobbing.

“Why the fuck didn’t we do anything about it then?” he whispered, almost fierce.

Darcy felt her stomach twist, the heat rising in her cheeks.

“I… I was scared.”

He kissed her, pouring everything into it, making Darcy whimper from the force of it. When he drew back, he was searching her face.

“I’ve always loved you,” she said.

“Get outta my head,” he said, and she gave a wet little laugh, her eyes brimming with tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	8. Darcy/Bucky - Titfucking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's your classic "you saved my life and now I want you" fic, I guess

  
_I'm a freak, yeah I know_  
_Know you like to hear me say it_  
_On the bed, on the floor_  
**\- "FREAK" by shygirl**

She could feel her mind slipping away and Bucky held her face in his hands, his eyes fierce and wide as he gripped her, Darcy’s throat thick as she tried to swallow.

She couldn’t feel the pain, not yet. The impact she’d felt, the bullets in her hip and stomach, and then she was tugged back upright by him, after he shot the guy that shot her. The HYDRA goon was on the floor, his brains sprayed across the ground and floor in a long arc, Darcy had some of the mess on her legs mingling with her own blood.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” Bucky hissed, giving her a little shake. “You fucking idiot, Darcy –”

“You’d have done the same,” she slurred, and she knew she was gone, falling into unconsciousness as he clung to her, trying to keep her awake.

She’d stepped in front of the firing bullets because it was all she could do at the time. If he hadn’t, Bucky would be on the ground, and then she’d be dead, too. It was better this way.

She hadn’t thought it through, clearly, by how angry Bucky was, but it was a little late to change anything.

“I could’ve taken it.”

“He was aiming at your head, asshole,” she mumbled, voice thicker. She was surprised she’d managed to stay awake let alone speak. And she was calling him an asshole when she’d just taken two bullets for him – Christ, that summed them up fucking _perfectly_.

Among the haze of confusion she was feeling now, wondering why she couldn’t feel her legs anymore, the blackness swallowing her whole – Darcy thought about the last time she’d seen him and how he made her feel about three feet tall. It wasn’t his fault. He was pretty closed off, Darcy got the vibe of ‘please don’t talk to me’ every time she made eye contact with him. As much as she liked to fade into the background, by comparison alone she seemed tens of thousands of times louder than Bucky Barnes.

Whenever she had tried to speak to him, he’d grunt and move on. If it was a really good day, he’d give a half smile but still walk away without saying much more. On worse days, like this one, he’d give her a look like she was the biggest nuisance, or the last person he wanted to see.

She was going to die for this guy and he’d never spoken more than two strung together sentences in her presence. It was so stupid Darcy could laugh if she hadn’t passed out already.

She came to in a hospital bed with Jane clutching her hand between hers, the room swimming as she tried to remember what happened. The bullets she hadn’t imagined, and she had the bandages to prove it, the painkillers flooding her system to cope… her mouth was dry as she tried to sit up on her elbows, Jane reaching for a cup of ice water with a straw.

“Just gimme the fucking jug,” Darcy rasped, shaking her head at the offering Jane tried to hand her.

She took hold of the plastic jug from the table next to her bed and tipped it back, spilling some down her front, and then she spotted someone in the corner of the room standing from their chair. Darcy realized she had a larger audience than just Jane and her eyes darted to meet Bucky’s as he stood by her bed, his eyes wide like the last time she saw him…

“Uh, so. I didn’t dream that shit?” Darcy said, Jane taking the jug away from her, and she wiped her face with the back of her hand, her IV bumping and making her squeamish, feeling the needle stuck in her for the first time…

“No, you did a really brave thing,” Jane said, and Darcy’s eyes swung to meet Bucky’s, daring him to call it ‘stupid’ like he had at the time.

Those two things often coincided with Darcy.

“So, the bullets -?”

“Two, they got them out,” Jane explained, standing up from her chair. “I should get the nurse, tell them you’re awake.”

Darcy opened her mouth to ask how long she’d been out, but her brain took too long to catch up and Jane was already out the door.

“You were out for two days,” Bucky said, Darcy’s eyes swinging to meet his.

The silence between them was different, bizarre. Darcy blinked at him, feeling her cheeks flush. She probably looked and smelled like shit if she’d been out for two days. She ran a hand through her hair, feeling several knots, clearing her throat as she averted her gaze.

“Look, I know – I know you’d feel some guilt,” she began, and Bucky let out a surprised breath of a laugh.

“Are you -?” he stammered, and Darcy looked up at him, swallowing. “Are you fucking serious right now? _Some_ guilt? Darcy…”

He moved closer and Darcy felt herself tense, unsure of what he’d do. He sounded exasperated, but she didn’t want anything to do with it – trying to comfort him was probably useless, he had the whole brooding thing down to an art, she’d watched that with a little wistfulness over the last several months. If he meant to argue with her, to make her regret her rash decision, it was too fucking late. She’d do it again, it was that simple.

She also wasn’t used to him saying her name out loud. It sounded illegal.

He walked right up to her, his hands resting on her shoulders, and Darcy reflexively gripped his wrists, more to steady herself than to assure him what he was doing was okay – frankly, she didn’t know if she was comfortable with him touching her, either.

There was an assumption there and she didn’t know what to make of it. Everything was too fast for her muddled brain. She had to be on some pretty heavy shit, by how groggy she felt.

“I’d do it again,” she said, lifting her chin in defiance. “Alright? So… shut the fuck up.”

He stared down at her, his mouth closing. His lips turned into a grim line as his jaw clenched. She wasn’t letting him dwell on it –

He leaned it and kissed her on the forehead, Darcy’s stomach flipping, and her grip tightened on his wrists. She was probably looking alarmed by the expression that flashed across Bucky’s face, something like fear, as if he’d taken a step too far, and he tried to withdraw his hands and shrink back.

“Wait,” Darcy whispered, and she was grabbing his flesh hand, squeezing it. “It’s okay. It’s _okay_ , Bucky.”

“Sorry, I don’t know what to say,” he whispered, and the fear returned to his face.

He took a step back, slipping out of her reach, and Darcy felt her heart sink, realizing a moment later he was simply giving her space for the nurse to come in and examine her, Jane in tow.

She kept her eyes on him, distracted, instead of focusing on the questions she was asked.

How was she feeling? She didn’t know. She felt as if the floor had opening up and she was falling back with the look Bucky was giving her.

He looked hurt and afraid. Darcy felt herself weaken at the sight of his hands balled into fists at his sides. She was prodded and examined, Jane’s eyes darting between her and Bucky, assessing them. Darcy wasn’t embarrassed, she was impatient and wanted to be alone with him again.

She wanted to curl herself around him and tuck his face into her neck. She felt the longing so strongly that she announced abruptly, interrupting the nurse’s flow:

“I would like to go home now, if that’s possible.”

“It’s definitely _possible_ , but not advisable,” the nurse retorted instantly, but Darcy’s eyes swung to hers and she pinned her there, raising her brows in challenge.

“I’ve spent enough time here, I’d rather rest at home.”

Darcy wasn’t a fan of hospitals – honestly, who really was – and she knew she needed to get out of there, hold onto Bucky’s hand and never let go.

She departed a couple hours later, Jane and Bucky on either side of her. The hospital was a couple blocks away from the Tower and the cab ride over was cramped and awkward, Jane looking the most uncomfortable, and she hadn’t even been shot.

Wedged between Jane and Bucky, Darcy was doing her best to ignore Jane and the rest of the world, slipping her hand into his metal one, her eyes on the side of his face.

His knee was jiggling the entire time, no-one in the backseat saying a word, their cab driver talking into his Bluetooth speaker, cars nearby beeping horns. 

She wasn't thinking of the world outside the cab's backseat. Neither was she thinking of the meetings with SHIELD Jane told her were scheduled tomorrow. She couldn't stop watching Bucky. 

They took her up to her apartment and Jane kept glancing at the front door, shifting from foot to foot.

“I’ll text you later,” Darcy said, trying to throw her a bone, since Jane looked a little lost.

“Alright.”

She gave Darcy a little hug, her eyes meeting Bucky’s, and then she walked out. Darcy wasn’t ashamed of what was so obvious – she and Bucky wanted privacy. Jane had done the same to her before with Thor, now she knew what it was like for Darcy, racing out of the room before anything escalated.

When they were alone, she moved as fast as her injured body would allow. She could manage to walk by herself, but she was slower, clumsier. She winced from the effort, something tugging in her hip, muscles still ripped and repairing themselves – she knew she had a long road to recovery, and she could sense Bucky’s reluctance to manhandle her, fighting his urge to haul her into his arms, instead wrapping his arms around her waist as her arms were latched to his neck.

“Easy,” he whispered, and Darcy pulled back to tilt her head to meet his, grunting when she made herself stand on tip-toe.

He didn’t fight it anymore, let himself give into it, sighing into a long kiss, his hands capturing her face again as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

Darcy gave a little moan, eyes falling shut as he took over, backing her toward the hallway. She stepped back, carefully walking with his arm around her to her bedroom, and then she reached for him again, hands on the waistband of his pants.

She backed toward the mattress, falling back with another wince, tugging him along with her. He didn’t lie on top of her, made sure he rested his weight on his forearms. Darcy wanted to feel him pressed into her chest, she didn’t care that she was feeling the dulled pain beneath it.

It was her body to move however she wanted, and she wanted him, grabbing hold of him to tug him closer, her mouth slanting over his, her hunger undeniable.

He drew back with a smack of their lips, and Darcy could see he was unsure, nervously licking his bitten lips, eyes blown and so blue.

“Touch me,” she whispered, taking one of his hands and placing it on her chest, pushing into his flesh palm. “Touch me, I want you to touch me…”

She needed his consent, her brain reminded her a little too late. She waited, lifting up a little to kiss his mouth, licking into him, and he gave a little groan, overwhelmed.

“I don’t think I can…”

He was struggling, then his crotch bumped hers, signifying just how much a few kisses and his hand over her clothes had done to him – he was tempting, but Darcy knew she wasn’t in any condition to spread her legs wide for him, to ride him like she wanted to.

“Do you want me?” she asked, and he nodded, sighing, kissing her back, gripping her jaw now.

He kissed her for a while, sucking the breath out of her. He was dedicated even when he seemed out of control, pulling back with presses to her cheek and neck, his eyes glazed.

Darcy put his hand back on her chest, and he gave a little squeeze, his hips rolling.

“Help me take off my shirt,” she whispered, and he nodded dumbly, moving back to help her sit up.

Their hands moved fast together, another tug on Darcy deep inside still dulled by the painkillers. His eyes fell to her bra and he licked his lips, diving in a moment later to mouth at the swells of her tits, both hands on her bra cups.

Darcy knew she was wet, getting wetter by the second as he mouthed at her mindlessly, moaning along with her, the air hot with tension -

He sought out her nipple, tugging down a cup and latching onto it with a deep breath, Darcy’s gasp escaping as he sucked and licked. She wished she wasn’t hurt, she wished she could wrap her whole body around him as he fucked her senseless, she got the feeling he was more than capable, his tongue laving the peaks of her –

Her nipples were wet and hard as she whimpered, their eyes locking, and she tried to roll her hips, her hands deep in his long hair.

“Could you – could you -?”

Her words failed her, one hand trying to tug him further up, wanting access to his cock that was bumping her.

Her hand managed to ghost over the front of his pants and he grunted, leaning further up, kissing her mouth again, everything wet and messy. Darcy squeezed the length of him.

“Gimme –”

He gave a laugh of surprise, grinning at her like he never had before, eyes bright. He hovered, their noses brushing in between another heady kiss.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered.

“You won’t… I just want you in my mouth for a second.”

He flushed, and it was so adorable Darcy grinned up at him, enjoying the sight of him turning pink too much.

“I mean it,” Darcy whispered, popping the button of his pants, his eyes falling down between them to watch the movement of her hand. “I want you in my mouth…”

“Darcy,” he whispered, shaking his head. “You…”

“I know I don’t _have_ to,” she retorted. “I _want_ to.”

Her hand cupped him over his underwear, deep in his pants, and he grunted. He felt thick and heavy, so warm. She gave him a little push to the chest and he moved back onto his knees, Darcy’s hand delving into his underwear, and he groaned, the sound so raw Darcy felt her own face burn.

She slowly, as carefully as she could to avoid any flares of sharp pain, lowered herself so her face was parallel to Bucky’s hard cock, her hand wrapped around him.

She leaned down to seal her mouth over the crown of him, pushing down further until she was swallowing most of him, swirling her tongue and sucking. He huffed, a hand coming down to touch the side of her face, his hips already lifting.

“Fuck, I can’t – sweetheart, I _can’t_ …”

Darcy pulled back with a contented sigh, stroking him, their eyes meeting.

“You don’t have to fuck me,” she whispered. “Just my mouth a little. Or maybe my tits…”

His eyes slammed shut as she took him to the back of her throat once more, her eyes watering, and he seemed to only half register what she was saying, his head shaking as if to unmuddle his thoughts.

“W-what? Your tits?”

Had he not done that before? Darcy nodded, pulling off him once more, stroking him with a tight fist, and he was reaching for her again to pull her into another kiss. He devoured her, panting and tussling, until she was on her back beneath him, Darcy’s heart hammering.

She let go of him, his cock bobbing, and she brought her hands up to her naked chest, pushing her tits together, nodding up at him.

“Like that,” she whispered, his cock on her stomach, dragging up. He pushed between her tits and Darcy loved the feeling, everything so warm, his dick wet as he rocked.

His lip was between his teeth, and he moaned through his clenched jaw, dragging back and forth.

Maybe she was delirious with being wanted but this felt better than them trying to fumble their way through a poor attempt at standard sex, Darcy crying out for all the wrong reasons. His eyes were stuck on her tits. He was mesmerized by the sight of his cock squeezed between her tits, rubbing back and forth... his hips rocking a little faster with each breath, until he was huffing and groaning, nearing his end.

“I’m gonna –”

“Do it,” Darcy whispered. “Do it all over me.”

He did exactly that, cords of come falling along her throat, chest and stomach, some splashes on her chin, and Darcy was licking her lips, panting along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	9. Darcy/Steve - Sleepy Sex

_And sex with me, so amazing_  
_All this hard work, no vacation_  
**\- "Sex With Me" by Rihanna**

Steve’s feet were beside Darcy’s, his nose buried in her neck, her hand in his hair as she stroked lazily. She wasn’t sure if he was asleep or not, but he’d invaded her side of the bed. There was the whole other half to be his and he chose to curl himself around her, their legs tangled together as the morning drifted on.

A lot of things about this behavior would usually bother her. She hated people touching her feet, taking up too much room… but he seemed to be the exception, drawing a deep breath as Darcy smiled to herself secretly.

He was naked, since he went to sleep that way last night. He rolled into her apartment in the middle of the night, kissed her like he was starved, and now he was cuddling her like he was made for it, his heft a furnace in the fresh fall air of Darcy’s apartment. She’d got up early to actually crack a window open, since he was making her too warm. Now she lay there, thinking about how likely it was that his dick was brushing up against her. She was pretty sure he was half-hard when she woke before, and his interest hadn’t waned, despite falling back to asleep.

Darcy’s tank top strap had fallen part way off her shoulder, and she shifted slightly to readjust it, Steve’s grip tightening around her waist as she felt his lashes brush against her throat.

“What time is it?” he rumbled, and Darcy smirked.

“Time to get a watch.”

His was on the nightstand currently and he gave a soft breath of a laugh, lifting his head, turning her in his arms so she was underneath him, moving his body up between her thighs that fell open. His eyes shifted to her tank top, his head sinking further down once more to kiss her shoulder.

He was definitely hard. Darcy bit her lip, angling her hips to brush the crotch of her underwear against his crown, teasing him as he pushed her strap further down, his hand cupping her free breast. He pulled down the other strap, kissing her chest, latching onto her other nipple, pinching the other. He was slow and meticulous, Darcy’s hips rocking into him, a needy sound ebbing from her as Steve laved at her skin.

He finally kissed her on the mouth with a greediness that sucked the breath out of Darcy, her eyes squeezing shut as he cuddled her to his chest. Darcy felt his hand glide down between them, flat against her stomach, fingers slipping under the waistband of her sleep shorts. She gave a moan at the feel of his fingers reaching her cunt, his middle one pressing down to circle her clit.

She could feel him drawing this out longer than usual, but she loved it, how he wasn’t in a rush. She had to tell herself that delayed gratification wasn’t _absolute_ torture –

She whimpered when he suddenly took his hand away to suck on two fingers, only to move his hand back down and stuff her, his thumb now pressing on her clit. He was watching his fingers disappear inside her, Darcy’s shorts pushed down to her knees, her feet scrambling.

When he latched onto her nipple again with a soft groan, the sound and sensation was like a direct line to her cunt and Darcy felt her cheeks flush with fresh arousal, wondering if he could feel how wet she’d got, her hips trying to lift to meet his hand.

She moved with him, breathing slow and deep, Steve pulling back from her nipple with a soft pop that made Darcy giggle among the haze of pleasure, his mouth slanting over hers.

She finally came when everything had begun to blend, her whole body tightening as she felt sweat break out all over her. Steve watched her, face hovering above hers, smiling down at her as Darcy shivered through the aftershocks.

His hand was soaked as he clutched her jaw, Darcy’s hands moving down his front, wrapping a hand around his shaft to stroke him as her other cupped his balls.

He grunted, eyes flashing, and Darcy had little time to prepare as he licked his other hand, taking hold of his cock, letting go of her face to hitch her thigh over his hip, shorts kicked off…

Darcy let out a surprised moan when he filled her to the hilt. She was so full, her mind and body mismatched for a few seconds as he began to thrust into her fast and hard, the force enough for Darcy to cry out with each slam into her, her nails digging into his back, her thighs clinging to him.

He kept moving, the sound of his flesh smacking into hers mingling with Darcy’s little moans. She couldn’t keep quiet if her life depended on it, her toes curling as he fucked her like he was mad, each thrust prompting a keening cry:

_“Oh – oh – oh – oh - !”_

He lost momentum, breathing ragged, shoving as deep as possible before spilling inside, her hair in his fist.

Darcy panted along with him, her mind reeling. When he pulled back, they both hissed, the mess spilling out of Darcy and onto the sheets.

“You okay?” he whispered, and Darcy nodded, eyes a little wide.

“Caught me off-guard is all…”

“Yeah?” he said, a hint of pride to his voice, his cheeks pink, his hair mussed.

She tugged him into a hungry kiss in retaliation, wondering if she could speed up how long it would take for another round to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	10. Bucky/Wanda - Lingerie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Anonymous said:** IDK if you do this pairing, but Bucky/Wanda for Day 10 (wax play/lingerie) or Day 17 (sex-demon)? Thank you for your consideration ♥️
> 
> I haven't written this pairing before but I had a lot of fun! **cw:** post-Ultron angst, Wanda grieving Pietro etc. I made Wanda a couple years older in this so she's not underage.

_Everything I've lost_   
_Everything I was_   
_Is coming back to me_   
**\- "Coming Back To Me" by The Naked and Famous**

At first, Wanda wasn’t sure if Bucky even knew she existed, he was too wrapped up in himself to seem like he was registering anyone outside of his own bubble of confusion, simmering anger and mile-long stares.

Trauma was like that for Wanda at first when she came to America. She’d push through every day and cry alone at night, thinking of Pietro, thinking of the rubble of her home. Her memories were her greatest enemies, so she felt for Bucky. It was hard not to.

She wished there was something she could do or say to make some difference, but she knew she was ill-equipped for that. It was a miracle if she didn’t break something most days, out of anxiety, fury or a clumsy accident. Her powers were still messy at times, especially when she was in the middle of a meltdown. It was hard to know what was considered a ‘meltdown’ by her standards in those early days.

She liked to keep to herself. She liked that for the most part it was respected as an off-limits thing to the others, her alone time. She’d pluck on her guitar, watch a few episodes of a show she never watched as a kid (and there were a lot of those). Most of the time, she’d sit on her bed with her knees drawn in, staring at the wall.

She learned what self-care was and she tried to understand that loving herself was important, but the concept made her retch, it was so bizarre to her. It wasn’t that she felt she deserved to die, she’d somehow pushed past that, but the rest was too much. There were some parts of her she loved, like her powers. She also hated her powers at the same time, it was difficult to explain, except maybe Steve.

The night she first interacted with Bucky, it was September and she was cutting up fruit for her own little Rosh Hashanah she was planning to have in her room. She knew it would bring up a lot of memories. She anticipated some broken glasses, maybe some laundry to wash when her food was flung around… she didn’t need anyone seeing that.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, their eyes meeting as he spotted her with the chopping board. She gave a half-smile, hoping he did the same, and he only blinked at her, disappearing into the fridge for a carton of orange juice.

He grabbed a glass and filled it in silence, his eyes drifting back to her, lifting the glass to drain it in a few fluent gulps, his throat working.

Wanda knew she was attracted to him. Her body usually responded before her mind, her shoulders lifting slightly as she tried to make herself smaller – and then she’d realize it was because she didn’t like being seen by him, she didn’t want to be examined too closely.

She didn’t expect him to speak, a low rumble but nonetheless fluent:

“Shanah Tovah.”

She stopped chopping, glancing up. He licked his lips, and a miracle happened – he seemed to smile a little, lip curling before it disappeared. Wanda blinked at him several times before he added:

“For tomorrow.”

“Oh!”

The word burst out of her and she smiled, ducking her gaze back to the apples she was cutting. There was a tub of honey on the counter that she bought that afternoon. She’d walked all the way to the store to buy it, listening to Florence and the Machine, someone she felt like was made for her to listen to, she was so _wonderful_ …

“Thank you,” she added hastily, sure that her self-consciousness was obvious.

He was so handsome and Wanda didn’t know what to do with it, and she certainly couldn’t tell anyone else about it. She waited for him to leave, so aware of where he was still in the kitchen, moving behind her to get to the dishwasher.

He opened it, put the dirty glass inside and shut it, and Wanda’s eyes darted this way, only for their eyes to meet again. She’d thought he’d turned his back on her to retreat, but his eyes instead fell to her legs for a microsecond, _both_ of them caught staring at one another.

She was wearing a short skirt and grey knee socks. Her shoes were a scuffed pair of men’s slippers, in the smallest size she could find.

Was he looking at her thighs because they were sort of out or because he wanted to look at her thighs? Wanda tried to analyse the look he gave her lightning fast and felt her face flush. His eyes had widened, and she saw him swallow again.

Her legs had been hidden by the counters, she realized. He was taken aback.

(Was he? Was he really?)

She had a thought:

_Stop him. Make him forget this happened._

That was out of line. She didn’t do that anymore, not with these people. Bucky out of all of them felt like it would be the biggest violation. HYDRA had already fucked up his head enough, putting his mind into a blender for decades. Tony had actually called it ‘Mind Soup’ once, which made Steve’s jaw tick.

Wanda was embarrassed enough to consider it, to weigh it up. Maybe if she rummaged around he’d forget he was caught, too, staring at her legs. It wouldn’t be the worst thing Wanda had ever done. She’d feel guilty about it, sure, but maybe the embarrassment was stronger.

And then, a second miracle, a softening of Bucky’s features. He seemed… warmer. It wasn’t lecherous, Wanda had seen that before…

“Sorry,” he whispered, and Wanda shook her head, feeling her face burn.

She was smiling, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, listening to him finally leave, the air changing. She felt her tummy flip, which hadn’t happened in so long. She couldn’t remember the last time a boy did that.

Bucky wasn’t a boy, though, but a grown man. Wanda let out a shaky breath when she was alone again, staring at her chopping board.

-

The next day during her quiet celebration, Wanda still cried a lot but she knew that thinking about Bucky had helped her get through it. She knew if Pietro was there he’d be teasing the ever-living shit out of her. She’d roll her eyes and shove him away, and he’d let her even though he could just as easily dart out of her reach.

She hid away from the world, only coming out for food, and she liked that she wasn’t pushed into interacting with anyone.

She went online to look at some clothes, wondering if she could let herself indulge a little, since the cooler weather meant she’d need some more things. Snuggly things that she could wrap herself up in. She spent hours trying to find something that was hers, but it was hard – she didn’t know if she was shopping for this new version of herself, influenced by these American girls she saw at the supermarket.

She knew she wasn’t completely off the grid in Sokovia, but her tastes were certainly different. Not everyone was into smudged eyeliner and black nail polish. She kept the thumb ring and black nails but thought about something more womanly, like an updated Winona Ryder, whose Tim Burton movies she watched incessantly as a child on VHS, until they lost everything.

When she got the box of new things, Steve’s brows lifted at her, pleased she was doing something for herself. She saw him take in her new threads as she wandered into the kitchen one night to make mac n’ cheese from a box (another American thing she learned she loved). She noticed him decide on what to say, his lips quirking.

“Those jeans come torn or did you rip ‘em to shreds yourself?” he murmured, and she shot him a look, pretending to be unamused.

“Pre-torn,” she quipped. “I paid extra.”

She wore a pair of fishnet stockings underneath, a little grunge, a little sexy. Wanda didn’t know how to be sexy, if truth be told. She didn’t have time to, usually. Back home, when she didn’t date, only hung around with boys occasionally, tussling with them in parked cars or on their couches. It was never romantic, but an itch to scratch.

She put her hands on her hips, smiling without showing her teeth, telling Steve she appreciated him joking around with her, but he didn’t need to worry so much. He was bad at concealing that, Wanda didn’t need to read his mind to know he felt a ridiculously high level of responsibility for her.

She should tell him she loved him, but she didn’t know how, at least not yet. She watched him make a sandwich as they shared the space, Wanda’s movements faster as she floated her utensils around. She wasn’t showing off, but she sensed a hint of pride when Steve’s eyes trained on the pepper shaker lifting from the cupboard shelf to fling itself in Wanda’s direction. She caught it without looking, throwing Steve a little smile his way.

“You’re getting better.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, stirring the pot.

There were footsteps and Wanda automatically glanced toward the entrance, thinking it could be Natasha or Sam, but it was Bucky, and her stomach did another flip, her eyes darting away from him.

Steve was finishing up his sandwich and said goodnight to Wanda, her response a soft murmur, as Bucky took over his friend’s spot, getting out his own plate.

Wanda chose to speak instead of letting the silence between them linger on and on, torturing herself with how awkward she could possibly make it. He was another human being for crying out loud, and she used to be able to interact with everyone just fine.

“Any plans for tonight?”

He was in the middle of opening a jar of pickles and paused, big blue eyes swinging to meet hers. He licked his lips, smirking.

“Not really.”

“Yeah, same,” Wanda said. “I guess I could go to sleep at a good time…”

Why was her tactic to bring up how messed up she was? It’s not like she beat him in this game.

“If you can,” Bucky said, with a knowing sort of half-chuckle.

“Yeah, _right_ ,” she replied, and she smiled. 

They fell silent once more and she wondered if she should mention the weather, noting the leaves that were crunching underfoot… she stayed quiet instead, choosing not to bring up anything lame. She didn’t like that she was trying at all with this guy, he wasn’t interested.

Bucky bit into his sandwich, holding the plate under it. With a full mouth he mumbled:

“I like your…”

Wanda’s eyes darted to meet his once more, waiting. Bucky had actually put up his flesh hand to gesture vaguely. Wanda chose not to ignore the thrill that ran through her.

“My what?” she prompted.

“Your… everythin’,” he murmured, putting his sandwich back on his plate.

She stared at him, openly, Bucky staring back. He put the back of his hand to his mouth, wiping away a crumb, or possibly to occupy himself, and Wanda swallowed, wondering if she could propel herself forward to reach him.

She let her eyes slip away to the pot, touching the spoon to stir it a couple times, and then she was aware of the shift in the air, his steps behind her, her heart in her throat as she turned around.

He crowded her into the stove, hands coming to rest on either side of her, knuckles brushing her hips. She tilted her head toward his, staring deep into his eyes, willing herself to not run away, because she didn’t want to.

She wanted this for herself, and it was harder for her to let herself just _be_ in the world those days, and she knew it was the same for him. 

He drew in a deep breath, his cheeks turning a little pink, as if she was the one that pursued him. His eyes slipped down to her throat, her arms, her legs…

“You’re really young,” he murmured.

He seemed to be talking to himself more than her, perhaps determining how bad an idea this really was. Wanda nodded.

“I’m eighteen.”

She’d be nineteen in a few months. Then twenty, and then twenty-one… the years stretching ahead of her. She hated the idea of growing old, not because she wanted to be young forever – it was more the absence of Pietro that made a lump form in her throat. The sting of their birthday would never leave her.

She pushed the thought down, to be back in the present, where she could smell Bucky since he was so close to her. She could feel the warmth of his body towering over hers, his face still hovering, undecided.

Wanda stood on tiptoe, holding her breath, closing in on her target. She’d done this before, many times, it’d been a while but she was sure she knew what to do –

He caught her arm as she pressed her lips to his, his grip tight around her elbow. They broke apart almost instantly, his face pressing into hers, his breath warm. He let out a puff of a laugh.

“Tell me stop…”

“No,” Wanda whispered. “I want you.”

He kissed her, slanting his mouth over hers, and she moaned at the heat of it. He backed her into the stove, hands on her waist as his tongue pushed between her lips, Wanda’s hands on his face to anchor herself to reality. Her mind was out of step with her body, since she was still a little disbelieving this was really happening. He was kissing her with the kind of possessiveness she didn’t know she craved, but she wanted to feel wanted – and he was hard against her already, their lips smacking –

“Do you have a condom?” she whispered, and he let out a groan, then shook his head with his eyes closed.

She hated her accented English, but she knew she had to ask. She hadn’t thought of buying any. It seemed to her like wishful thinking whenever she was at the store and thinking about safe sex…

“We can still do things,” she added, and he nodded, kissing her again, pouring everything into it.

They separated to switch off the stove, and then they left their food behind as they departed for her room. It wasn’t as if anyone would mind the mess they left behind, it was already kind of late. Wanda tugged him inside, shutting the door behind them, only to have Bucky steal her breath away in another rushed kiss, backing her toward her bed. Wanda threw out an arm to push a magazine to the floor, landing on her back with Bucky on top of her.

“It’s been a while,” he murmured, kissing her face, fingers gliding down her sides as his lips trailed down her throat, latching onto her skin.

It was heavenly, and Wanda shivered beneath him, her legs squeezing his hips, her hands moving to touch his hair. She pushed some of it to the side, exposing his ear, her fingers trailing the shell as she heard him sigh.

“Yeah, but I’ve never heard complaints,” Wanda whispered, because it was true.

Boys liked her and they liked the way she touched them with little hesitancy. Bucky pulled back, looking down at her, Wanda’s hand cupping his jaw.

“I… I meant me,” he said, searching her. “Are you -?”

“I’m not a virgin,” Wanda said instantly, and he nodded, frowning a little. “I’m _not_ –”

“I believe you,” he said. “Are you sure -?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Wanda hissed, cutting him off with a kiss, rougher than before, a greedy glide to her tongue as Bucky groaned, his hand flexing on the small of her back.

She managed to wriggle out a little to tug off her shirt, Bucky’s eyes falling to her chest as he saw another online purchase – a blood red push-up bra that made him gulp.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, and she grinned at him.

“Your turn.”

He moved back onto his knees, pulling off his red Henley and tossing it onto the floor, Wanda’s hands reaching for him to glide over his muscles. He tensed when she moved them further back up, toward his shoulders. Her fingers ghosted over the raised scar tissue on his left shoulder that melded with his cybernetic limb, so she paused, looking him in the eye.

“Is this okay? Does it hurt?” Wanda said, and he glanced away, thinking.

“I dunno, sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes I forget about the pain, since it’s always sorta been there.”

Wanda shuffled a little closer, lowering herself to press a kiss on the edge of one of the pearly scars, and Bucky drew in a sharp breath.

“It’s ugly,” he murmured. “It’s ugly to look at, and I don’t… I don’t like seeing it with you.”

Wanda moved back, kissing him on the face, her hand remaining there, rubbing gently. She was tipped back, into the mattress, their legs tangling as they kissed.

“I have matching underwear,” Wanda whispered, as Bucky mouthed at the peak of her breast over the bra cup, his hand over the other, squeezing.

His spare hand, his metal one, slipped down to her jeans, popping the button as Wanda grinned at him, her heart racing. Bucky took a second to pull down the fly of her jeans, looking at what he saw inside.

“That you do,” he murmured, and his eyes swung back up to hers, a smile on his face.

“Could you -?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, kissing her, his hands swapping, his metal one now gripping her waist as his flesh one slipped down the front of her jeans, Wanda’s breath hitching.

It felt like her body was hers again, when Bucky touched her, his fingers rubbing her in circles over the satin fabric, a little groan slipping out of him.

“You’re wet,” he murmured, and she nodded.

“Please…”

Her own hands were reaching for him between his legs, and she was clumsy with her movements as she unbuckled his belt, the sound spurring her on, tripping some memory of another time…

She stopped thinking about the boys she knew back home when Bucky’s fingers pushed inside her with ease, the air leaving her lungs as she moaned into his mouth, her thighs falling further open.

“Fuck,” Bucky whispered.

Wanda moaned louder when Bucky’s thumb swiped over her clit, and his eyes grew wider, his metal hand coming up with a soft whir to clamp over her mouth.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he whispered. “Gotta stay quiet, Wanda.”

Even him saying her name was too much, his fingers beginning to fuck her in fast strokes, her hips already lifting from the bed.

“Shh, honey…”

He didn’t let up, his lips parted as he watched her come undone, her cunt gripping him as the room evaporated –

She whimpered, twisting beneath him, her hands latched onto his thighs as she came crashing back down, her limbs like warm liquid…

When she finally looked him in the eye again, he was staring down at her, mesmerized.

“Your eyes…”

She knew they had to be glowing, and she blinked a few times, panting with his hand off her mouth. She managed to pull herself up, tugging him into another kiss, one hand shoving into his pants to wrap around his shaft.

Above her, Bucky moaned, their kisses turning sloppy as she stroked him hard and fast, with the same determination he’d shown her. She knew he wouldn’t take long, by how he grew hotter in her hand, his tip already sticky from excitement.

She got the feeling that if she asked him to stick it in her for a few thrusts he’d do it, his brain was already scrambled by her hand, the wet clutch his fingers had felt would be heaven to him, but Wanda wasn’t that dumb – and she could always buy condoms tomorrow.

And then she’d ride him into next week.

“Wanda, God _damn_ –” Bucky huffed, going rigid as his dick twitched in her palm, and then he was shuddering, coming onto her stomach as he groaned.

When he drew back, assessing the mess he’d made, Wanda could see he was relieved that he hadn’t managed to ruin her underwear, pressing his sweaty forehead to hers. She pulled him into a slower kiss, one they both smiled into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	11. Darcy/Steve - Licking

_Put this pussy right in your face_   
_Swipe your nose like a credit card_   
**\- "WAP" by Cardi B & Megan Thee Stallion**

Darcy’s back hit the door as she smothered her giggles with her hand, Steve’s bright eyes and wolfish smile all she could see. He ducked his head to kiss her, Darcy’s stomach flipping with anticipation.

This didn’t get old, especially with Steve. They’d been kissing like this for a few days, hands over clothes, promising each other they’d get that cup of coffee, or go see that movie, when they both had a night off. For the time being, making out in empty offices against locked doors would suffice.

Darcy was sure she had hearts in her eyes whenever she saw Steve, her cheeks flushing when she’d remember the soft sighs he’d made when they last kissed, how he’d been hard as a rock as he bumped into her, Darcy’s thigh latched to his narrow hip.

She could feel he was hard now, too, after only a few heady kisses, her teeth tugging onto his lower lip, sucking it as he pushed her up against the door with a thud – and Darcy shushed him, breaking away to put her finger to her lips, everything too ridiculous and bubbly to feel real. He took the opportunity to kiss the side of her face, his hands on her ass and chest, her dress bunching up as he stood between her legs.

He pressed wet kisses down her neck, latching onto her pulse point as Darcy shivered, eyes falling shut as she bit back a whimper, her hands curling into his shirt that she was managing to pull up a little to expose his skin. She tensed, meeting his hips with her own in the small space she had, Steve sucking hard enough to bruise.

“Steve…”

“Wish we didn’t have to be quiet,” he whispered, moving back to kiss her, wet and hungry.

She was shoved again, the door thudding, and then Steve pulled back with a smack of their lips, his mouth wet. With his hands on Darcy’s hips, he knelt and Darcy’s hands went to his face, holding him as he glanced up at her.

Then he flipped her dress up and ducked under, Darcy’s heart in her throat as she realized his intention, his hands gliding up her bare thighs.

She felt the swipe of his tongue on her inner thigh, then a kiss, a nibble, then another lick. His thumb ghosted over her underwear, right down the middle as Darcy tilted her hips to meet him, a needy sound ebbing from her gritted teeth. She sucked in a breath, unable to anticipate Steve’s movements because her sundress was obscuring his face.

His tongue glided along the edge of her underwear, hot and wet, Darcy’s breath caught in her throat as she covered her mouth again with her hand, her other reaching down to touch the back of Steve’s head over the fabric of her dress. He kept going, doing the same on the other side, Darcy’s thighs beginning to tremble, her body speaking for her – she knew that close he’d be able to see and smell how wet she was for him, wanting more.

This was the furthest they’d gone before. If the sex was anything like this when they finally fucked, Darcy would be a wreck.

Steve’s warm breath made her shiver, his tongue a downright menace as he began to lick in steady strokes along the front of her underwear, Darcy jolting on the first impact, and she could sense he was in no hurry, taking his time to make her wetter than ever.

Every time he reached her clit and retreated, Darcy gnawed at her lip. He kept at it as she began to squirm, his big hands squeezing her ass. His fingers curled into her underwear, the seams straining, before he finally tugged it down past her thighs, all the way down to her ankles.

Darcy was shivery and moaning, ready to shove his face into her if he didn’t –

“Oh, fuck,” she hissed, two of his fingers pushing inside her as he licked up her naked cunt, his soft groan mingling with her curse.

His fingers gripped her ass harder as he licked her again and again in sloppy strokes, sucking a little at the top, teasing her clit, not quite enough for her to come.

“Steve, please,” she whispered.

She was already begging for this guy. God help her when he got his cock into her. She’d be pleading like she’d never come before, wound up so tight…

His fingers finally began to thrust back and forth, Darcy’s pleased sigh encouraging him, his tongue still moving back and forth, the sounds growing obscene, since he was slurping at her now, pulling on her clit a little harder with each trip back north.

Darcy came slow and hard, Steve’s fingers going still inside her as she squeezed, her hand slipping away from the back of his head, the world melting away. She felt her face burn with it, and she sighed contentedly, giggling weakly.

“Come on, get back up here,” she whispered, when he kept licking at her, licking everything away.

She moved her hips a little so she could angle her clit away. She was oversensitive, gasping when he resurfaced with a soaking chin and mouth, eyes dark with lust.

He sealed his mouth over hers, the messiness of it making Darcy light-headed. It felt like there was nothing between them, they’d never been so close, and she was happy, she was so happy – reaching between them to unbuckle his belt, her hand delving into his pants.

He gripped her by the hair and Darcy chuckled at him, wound tight as a bow string, licking into her mouth with that fucking tongue of his, as she stroked him hard and fast, spitting on her hand when she got the chance, going back to his cock.

He surged into her, mouth all over her face and neck, sticky marks left behind, his breath coming in sharp pants, smacking her into the door a couple times in his haste.

He came with a muffled, broken moan into her neck, his cock twitching as he spilled over her tight fist.

“We gotta – we gotta get back,” he panted, pulling back, face crimson.

“You need a second to rest, sweetie,” Darcy whispered, the fond pet name slipping out of her, and she couldn’t be embarrassed, especially with the look he returned of pure, unadulterated affection. He pressed her back into the door with a sigh, arms wrapped around her as their breaths began to settle.

Steve Rogers was super cuddly post-climax, who knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, the WAP lyrics were coming this month, what did you expect
> 
> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)
> 
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	12. Steve/Bucky - Drunken Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drunken sex is an umbrella term, I feel. I wrote this to be in 1930s Brooklyn, boys being boys, y'know. Bucky be like "Fellas, is it gay to be gay? I'm asking for my boyfriend."

_It's always been just him and me_  
_Together_  
_So I bet all I have on that_  
_Furrowed brow_  
_And at least in this lifetime_  
_We're sticking together_  
**\- "Me and My Husband" by Mitski**

They left the dance hall together. They went to a bar and drank until Steve was almost slumping off his stool. On the outside, they’d both struck out, two bachelors going home to empty beds. Steve had a good night, Bucky could sense it in the way he was smiling at him through his lashes, cheeks pink from hooch and the smoky air of the bar.

Their dates were sweet, good girls that were completely oblivious. They’d do the same next weekend. It was all pretty harmless as long as Bucky and Steve acted like gentlemen for the most part and paid for everything and waited on their dates. All the while, he’d be thinking of this, when they stumbled out of the bar after last call, the night air hitting him in the face, not doing enough to sober either of them.

Bucky’s hand was gripping the back of Steve’s neck and they were laughing together, a heat pooling in Bucky’s belly, their eyes meeting.

“Hey, c’mere,” Steve whispered, and Bucky was tugged by his sleeve down an alley way, dark and cut off from the rest of the world.

It was a little stupid, a little dangerous. It was exactly Steve’s style, backing him into the wall and standing on tip-toe to grab him by the jaw and finally kiss him. It was clumsy but the effort was appreciated. Bucky could feel he was already growing hard from the rush of it, how Steve couldn’t seem to get close enough, kissing him breathless like he had last week, and the week before…

How many times had they done this? They were never sober when it happened. Bucky didn’t know if he’d ever kiss anyone sober this way, his back smacking into the brick wall behind him as Steve tried to suck the breath out of him. Bucky pulled back, light-headed, wondering how Steve was managing this with his bad lungs, his hand curling in the waistband of Steve’s trousers, his knee between Bucky’s thigh.

Steve was like a wild little thing, kissing Bucky’s face, Bucky trying and failing to keep up, kissing Steve’s head as Steve moved to the side and bit him on the neck.

“Lemme touch ya,” Bucky whispered, panting.

He wasn’t like this with any girl. Every dame he’d ever managed to kiss or touch above the knee, it was a more covert operation he’d only mastered by letting them take the lead. He hadn’t touched or kissed a dame in a while, not with the hunger he had now.

Steve drew back from Bucky’s neck, his hand wrapping around Bucky’s wrist and squeezing.

“Can we skip the part where we pretend this ain’t happening?” he whispered.

His words were slurred a little and Bucky wondered if Steve would even remember this, if either of them would be brazen enough to talk about it in the morning. Last time, they’d danced around it, and sometimes Bucky had suspected Steve was making fun of him for their dirty little secret.

“It’s happening, Stevie,” Bucky whispered back, peeling back Steve’s fingers carefully. “But we gotta be realistic, too…”

“I know, I know,” Steve hissed, a little frustrated, but so earnest, kissing Bucky again, on the lips. “I just waited for this all week.”

“I know, I know,” Bucky echoed, his voice softer.

Steve pushed him back into the wall, Bucky grunting from the force of it, their heads angling for Steve to push his tongue back into Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky couldn’t help the moan that came up from the back of his throat, his dick starting to ache.

His hand lay flat against Steve’s crotch and he squeezed, Steve’s mouth moving back to his throat and nipping at his Adam’s apple. Bucky threw his other arm around him, holding him to his chest, gritting his teeth when Steve did the same, rubbing and squeezing Bucky through his pants.

“Take it out, c’mon,” Bucky whispered, panting and moaning, his body responding too well for something so simple as a hand over a couple layers of fabric.

Last time, they’d jerked each other off and Bucky had almost collapsed from how hard he came, and it was all Steve’s fault, and he’d looked almost _smug_ when they walked out of the alley together, sweaty-faced and dreamy.

Bucky wanted to be touched, but he wanted to touch Steve more. He longed to wrap his hand around Steve and make him feel good. He could feel a warmth blooming in his chest at the thought, his free hand coming up to thread through Steve’s hair.

“Stevie, c’mon…”

He was either drunk or in love, or the highly likely third option – both, and Bucky smiled in the dark when Steve murmured into his neck:

“I heard about this thing French women do…”

“What?” Bucky mumbled, wanting to kiss him. “What you talkin’ about?”

“I saw it in a dirty picture –”

“What?” Bucky said, slightly louder. “You didn’t show _me_ this dirty picture…”

“It was years ago,” Steve retorted, pulling back, his hand still rubbing Bucky through his pants. “I didn’t want to show you because it’s a surprise.”

Bucky was about to say ‘what’ again, drunk and dumb that he was, when Steve moved to kneel in front of him, out of his arms.

“Hey, hey –”

Bucky couldn’t keep the alarm out of his voice, afraid and unsure of what Steve meant to do, tampering his voice down a second later.

“I wanna,” Steve said, hands on Bucky’s fly, pulling it down. “Relax, Buck. I wanna take care of you.”

Bucky couldn’t believe Steve was at eye-level with his dick, pulling him out and stroking him, Bucky’s heart in his throat, his face burning with want. He stared down at Steve in the semi dark as his tongue ran along the underside of his cock, all the way to his leaking tip, and he groaned.

“What…?”

“Shh,” Steve whispered, and then leaned up to wrap his lips around Bucky’s cock and suck him into his mouth, Bucky’s whole body coming to life, his hips lifting from the wall, his lips between his teeth.

He felt like he could explode already, his balls tight, which Steve was playing with now, cupping them as he bobbed his head slow at first.

“Stevie, I’m gonna get too excited…”

His voice was thin and wavering, his chest heaving as Steve moved all the way back for air, sighing as he stroked Bucky, the wet, lewd sounds ringing in Bucky’s ears.

“Finish in my mouth –”

“Fucking –”

Bucky choked on his words, Steve’s mouth determined as he swallowed him down, everything tight and wet, Bucky’s hands scrambling on his thighs, wanting so desperately to move but he was too afraid of hurting Steve…

If anyone walked past them now they’d be dead meat. Jail, or more likely beaten to death. Bucky couldn’t deny that Steve’s mouth on him was the closest thing to Heaven he’d ever feel, because he was going to Hell for this, there was no way around _that_ …

Every so often, Bucky would wince, feeling a scrape of Steve’s teeth. The third time it happened, Steve pulled back, sheepish.

“Sorry, I’m not that good,” he whispered, looking up at Bucky through those long eyelashes, but Bucky was shaking his head, trying to think of the best way to get Steve’s mouth back on him.

“You’re…. you’re…”

“Okay, I’ll keep going,” Steve said, going back in for more, as if this wasn’t entirely his idea, the little bastard.

Bucky moaned, clamping his mouth shut as Steve picked up speed, and he was gone, he couldn’t hold onto reality anymore – he came, the world tilting off of its axis, the relief so immense that Bucky thought he could cry. God, he was drunk. Or head over ass in love.

It was probably the second one, he couldn’t kid himself.

He felt as though every pore had opened up, and he drew several deep breaths, Steve standing back up as Bucky came back to Earth. He tugged him close, kissing him, no barrier between them, his heart swelling.

Yeah, it was love. He loved this man. Steve let out a moan this time, Bucky’s fingers tugging his hair, tasting his musk on Steve’s tongue.

They broke apart slowly, with soft giggles and languid kisses, Steve’s erection digging into Bucky’s thigh.

“We’ve gotta get you home if you want me to do that to you, Stevie,” Bucky whispered, kissing his forehead. “’Cause I ain’t doing it here…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these two in a super normal way I promise (I'm lying)
> 
> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com)


	13. Darcy/Bucky - Roleplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Anonymous said:** This might be too specific for Kinktober, but maybe role playing or dress up for WinterShock? I mean, would Bucky be willing to wear the WS uniform, war-paint and all in the bedroom? It’s just such a badass look.
> 
> This is also for my Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020 card, specifically my square U5: Murder Strut.

_Steal my blood and steal my heart_  
_Whatever it takes to get you up_  
**\- "Bitch" by Allie X**

“It’s the murder strut.”

“Excuse me?”

Bucky only spoke that way when he was wanting Darcy to repeat whatever weird-as-shit thing she’d just said, his brows lifting as he tried his best not to smile. Darcy grinned at him, leaning in closer to press a kiss to his cheek. They were in her kitchen eating ravioli she’d reheated for him. It was after 2AM when he rolled in, wrecked but happy.

“The one you do when you’re holding your rifle and you’re on your way to shoot the bad guys.”

“And… you think it’s hot?” Bucky said, chewing another mouthful. He swallowed.

“Yeah. A lot of women would,” Darcy retorted. “Steve said you were wearing greasepaint the night you shot Fury. That would’ve made my knees turn to jelly alone.”

“When I attempted to assassinate Nick Fury?” Bucky said, finally smirking at her.

“It’s not about you being a HYDRA assassin, honey,” Darcy murmured, pressing another kiss to his cheek. “You do the same walk toward me when I bend over in my yoga pants.”

“Can’t really blame a guy for his natural instincts,” Bucky retorted, mouth full. He swallowed. “So, you saw the murder strut on TV?”

It was the monster of the week that kept Bucky out of their apartment more than half the night. He had stalked toward one of the alien’s large talons, rifle at the ready, Natasha and Wanda in tow. The rest of the team, all the other men, were attacking its body. The women and Bucky were taking out the legs, while the Hulk flung himself directly at the face, fists flying.

It made good TV, and not just because the Avengers saved the day once again, the structural damage nothing compared to other incidents even in the last month. Darcy had bitten her nails as she watched on the couch, but by the time Bucky appeared on the screen, she knew everything was going to be okay. A second assuring thought she’d had was that her boyfriend looked gorgeous when he was on the warpath, hence why she’d brought it up now.

“Yeah,” Darcy replied, leaning back against the stove. “Can’t deny it does things to me. So, the greasepaint? You used to wear that?”

“Yeah. Brought out my baby blue peepers,” Bucky muttered, his eyes falling to Darcy’s stomach, because her sleep shirt had lifted a little to expose a strip of her skin. He licked his lips. “What would happen if I dressed up that way now?”

“I’d love it,” Darcy said, grinning once more.

“You wouldn’t be scared?” Bucky said, nose scrunching.

“No, I trust you,” Darcy replied instantly, since she had a few hours to think this over, hoping he’d come to this conclusion by himself.

Bucky was a smart guy.

“Okay,” he said, going quiet again.

He was passed out within another fifteen minutes, face buried in Darcy’s neck and snoring, Darcy’s hand stroking his long hair.

-

Darcy left him the next morning for work. She knew he liked to sleep late after a mission, so she wasn’t surprised at all that he didn’t stir when she moved around the bedroom to get ready. He made no move to rise from bed, tilting his head to kiss her goodbye, his hand giving her butt a little pat.

“See you later,” she whispered, and he gave her a smile with heavy-lidded eyes, his cheeks still pink from sleep.

When she returned several hours later, she walked into the apartment in a pretty good mood for a kind of boring Tuesday overall. Not much had happened, and she’d wished she’d played hooky… she shut the door, feeling happy to be home, knowing Bucky was waiting for her.

She called out:

“Bucky?”

She only had to wait ten seconds for him to appear in the hallway and she stopped dead, the heat rising in her cheeks instantly as she saw he was wearing his Kevlar vest, tac pants and black fingerless glove on his cybernetic hand. Her eyes swiveled up to his face and she could see he’d smeared greasepaint over his eyes, and there was imagining it and then seeing it in person and they were distinctly different – and holy shit, Darcy dropped her bag as he began to step toward her, piercing blue eyes locking with hers.

Darcy’s instinct was usually to ruin a moment, but she couldn’t speak, she was too turned on, the spell working better than she ever thought it could. He was close enough to touch her when he stopped still, dropping his eyes to her throat, trailing down her chest in which Darcy’s heart was hammering so fast she was sure Bucky could hear her… his eyes fell to her hips, then her legs. His gaze flicked up to her eyes again and it was clear his target was acquired.

He broke character for a split second, blinking at her, face softening, and Darcy deliberately widened her own eyes, nodding.

He took hold of her by the waist, launching himself into an open mouthed kiss, his hand on the back of her head, steering her away from the door, Darcy’s eyes falling shut.

His other hand was rough and gripping her ass, making her gasp, arching into him, her hands deep in his hair. His kisses were almost violent with their intention, close to bruising as he sucked the breath out of her, lowering her to the floor.

They broke apart, panting as Darcy shoved off her shoes, lifted her hips and yanked down her leggings, Bucky’s flesh fingers gliding up her inner thigh to reach her cunt, Darcy’s needy whimper ripped out of her as he began to play with her clit, taking hold of her by the back of the neck to keep her in place. He circled her clit to wet his fingers before pushing two inside her, Darcy’s surprised moan caught in her throat.

His focus and relentlessness was a lethal combination, fucking her fast, Darcy’s eyes locking with his, until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore, as her cunt gripped him for dear life, one of her hands trailing down to press on her clit…

She was straining, a desperate yell breaking out over the sound of Bucky’s hand, her back bowing as she came, her vision darkening around the edges –

She heard Bucky’s panting, then the sound of his belt unbuckling after he let go of her neck, replacing his hand with the tip of his cock, pressing into her, flattening her to the floor with Darcy’s ankles on his shoulders.

The stretch was incredible and Darcy moaned long and loud, he deserved to hear how much she loved this, him doing this for her. He deserved to enjoy it, too, so she flexed around him, a moan ebbing from Bucky’s mouth.

He set a fast pace, desperate to reach his end. If it wasn’t Bucky inside her, she’d otherwise feel used, but he was responding to her obvious cues – her moaning and fingers like claws in his hair were a dead giveaway.

He turned erratic once she came again, less intense as the first time but now reaching near deliriousness, sweating as Bucky proceeded to wreck her, fucking her through the aftershocks.

_“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…”_

She was babbling, and then Bucky went rigid, coming with a deep groan right by her ear. He'd turned Darcy's head to the side as he pressed one of his hands _on_ her face, his palm and fingers splayed across her nose and mouth, almost reaching her temple and chin. Darcy panted into the floorboards. 

Bucky pulled back, then pressed his forehead to hers, panting with her. He was himself again, shivering.

“Let’s not do that again… least for a little while,” he slurred. “Not until… I… _fuck_ …”

He didn’t finish his sentence, slumping on top of her, the apartment still spinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	14. Darcy/Wanda/Steve - Facial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A large chunk of the idea for this story comes from Merideath, so I can't take credit. ❤ The... act itself is my own idea. I also have way too much fun whenever I write these three together. It's a little row boat of a ship but she's fun.

_Go ahead, go way low, where I can do no wrong_  
_Got you around my finger like a lonely lover's charm_  
**\- "Get Some" by Lykke Li**

Darcy pushed open the door a little wider, her eyes falling to Steve, whose broad back was to hers. She’d heard his moans from the hallway, and now she could hear the wet sounds of Wanda working him over in greedy sucks as she sat between his legs on her bedroom floor.

Darcy was on time, and if she got this right, Steve would adore her like Wanda said he would if she gave this a try. The door gave a soft creak and Steve went still, turning his head toward Darcy, his face flushing. Instead of acting like a lost puppy someone had _also_ kicked, he gave a groan, his chest heaving with his eyes locking with Darcy’s.

“Darce –”

“I’m not interrupting?” she asked, shutting the door.

She tried to think of one of the more ridiculous things to say to break the ice. Steve gave a little laugh, breathless and weak, Darcy honing in on him, Wanda’s head still bobbing. With one hand on the back of Wanda’s head, and one coming up to grasp Darcy by the jaw, he kissed Darcy. It was almost sweet, if Wanda’s hand hadn’t reached up to grab Darcy’s right tit, squeezing with obvious familiarity. Darcy chuckled against Steve’s mouth, giving him the opportunity to ply her lips open with his tongue, slipping inside to swallow the moan that followed.

Darcy eventually drew back, Steve’s hand still gripping her, his thumb swiping over her bottom lip.

“Wanna show Steve what that mouth can do?” Wanda murmured, pulling off of him.

Darcy’s eyes darted to Wanda’s, seeing that conspiratorial little twinkle. Darcy let her eyes swing back to Steve, leaning back a little, her chest pushed out, Wanda’s hand still resting there, pushing her cleavage up. Steve couldn’t seem to decide where to look, Wanda’s hand still wrapped around his dick and stroking him lazily now, unhurried.

“It’s up to Steve,” Darcy murmured, her lips curling into a smirk.

He nodded, and Darcy grinned, her stomach flipping. She pressed her mouth back to his in a soft kiss, his lip between her two, and he sighed, fingers threading through her hair. Again, almost sweet, until he was directing her further down, and Darcy couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out.

Her heart was racing as she knelt beside Wanda, who turned to kiss her on the mouth, harder than Steve had, Darcy closing her eyes to get lost in it, to rile Steve up a bit. She sensed his eagerness when he twitched in Wanda’s hand, and Darcy turned her head to the side, Wanda’s lips bumping her face, trailing down her neck…

Darcy looked up at Steve through her lashes.

“I’m guessing Wanda let you know I’d be here,” Steve said, and Darcy nodded, shuffling a little closer to Steve.

She kept her eyes on his as she took control, wrapping her hand around his thick cock and pumping him a little faster than Wanda had been, watching him for a response. His was immediate, hissing as she opened her mouth to swirl her tongue around the crown of him.

“Thought I’d crash the party,” she murmured.

She took him further into her mouth, sucking and tugging a little, Steve’s face pink as his brows furrowed, Wanda’s soft laugh in Darcy’s ear as she kissed the side of her face. She ducked down and sucked one of Steve’s balls into her mouth as Darcy felt him brush the back of her throat, her eyes beginning to water.

“Fuck,” Steve gasped, his hands on both their faces, fingers long enough to touch their temples, and then he was gliding further up to their hair.

The sounds he was making made her needy, her thighs rubbing together as she relaxed her throat and rocked back and forth. Wanda pulled back, eyes meeting Darcy’s.

Wanda mirrored her, Steve’s fingers hard enough to yank at their scalps as Darcy watched Wanda suck him down, strings of spit making it slippery and loud, Steve was sloppy wet and groaning, his thighs beginning to tremble.

Darcy ran one hand up his thigh, squeezing as Wanda bobbed hard and fast. The air was taut, the pleasure mounting with each pass of Wanda’s mouth on him, Darcy’s eyes darting from Wanda to Steve and back again, biting her lip.

Wanda pulled back, panting a little, stroking Steve hard, grinning dazedly.

“He’s thinking about fucking you,” Wanda whispered to Darcy, and Darcy glanced back at him, unable to keep her stomach from flipping. “That’s the look he gets that I told you about.”

“Yeah?” Darcy said, only looking at Steve now.

He nodded.

“Thought it was just a rumor,” Darcy murmured, wanting to draw this out a little longer, sensing Steve was about to lose any resolve he might still have.

“He’s been pining for _months_ ,” Wanda murmured. “Right, Steve?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, and Darcy didn’t hesitate, she moved her mouth back down to take Steve to the back of her throat, pressing his hand down, wanting him to be rougher.

He moaned, the sound spurring Darcy further on. He began to finally speak, and she thought she might lose it, hearing Steve say those sweet things to her, praising her mouth.

“You feel so good, Jesus, I’m gonna lose it, I can’t…. I can’t… _Darcy_ –”

Feeling inspired and wicked, keen to make a lasting first impression to show she could be as fun as Wanda, Darcy pulled back, panting, the words tumbling out:

“Come on my face.”

He groaned, taking himself in his hand, stroking himself, standing now with Darcy’s mouth open, her tongue out. Wanda did the same, threading her fingers through Darcy’s. They only had to wait another ten seconds before he did exactly as he was told, the warm splash hitting Darcy’s cheek, nose and mouth, her eyes closing on impact, Steve’s groan long and loud.

Darcy and Wanda giggled, Steve’s fist bumping Darcy’s cheek as he kept his tip against her face, unintentionally smearing the mess around.

Darcy was high with desire, panting like Steve was when he moved back, his face shining with sweat.

She blinked slowly, licking her lips, giggling along with Wanda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	15. Darcy/Steve - Masturbation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **In a recent message from Em_Jaye on double-u double-u double-u dot Tumblr dot com:** I had a thought about a mutual masturbation type thing where Steve and Darcy are telling themselves they aren't going to have sex and somehow this is ... less sex. But I won't do anything with it. If any part of that speaks to you, please take

_Don't know what you were getting yourself into_   
_You should have known, secretly I think you knew_   
**\- "Begging For Thread" by Banks**

“It’s what friends do, right?”

“Oh, totally,” Darcy replied, voice thin. She was panting like Steve was, shifting on her spot on her couch, the room getting smaller and smaller.

He’d come over to drink beer without Sam, like Darcy expected. She’d agreed to him showing up, knowing he’d pull a stunt like this. It wasn’t exactly a stunt if she was part of it, too, but it was still a flimsily put together plan – Steve was the man with the plan, after all, his hand in her underwear as the TV played in the background, forgotten.

“We help each other out,” she added, her grip tightening around his shaft, her hand sliding up and down.

His cock was thick with a curve to it that would stroke Darcy deep inside the right way, if she ever got past jerking him off to finally ride him into next week like she kept wanting to whenever he was in her orbit. She was the dumbass that kept telling him anything like a real date would be a bad idea. She said that after _she_ kissed _him_ last month, and maybe that was a little cruel but Steve hadn’t minded at all, he’d gone along with everything and pushed further against the walls she put up.

She wasn’t ready for sex. She might be lucky and get away with this, among a lot of other dumb things she’d done with guys. Maybe this would be some distant, fond memory one day and she’d laugh about it.

_Remember that one time you jerked off Captain America? Heh._

Not that he was Cap to Darcy. She’d never call him that, it wasn’t what he called himself when they met, offering one of his huge hands that she took for a quick shake, suppressing her smirk at the time.

His same huge hand was circling her clit, drawing a breathy sound from the back of Darcy’s throat. He kept staring at her face, not where his hand disappeared down the front of her jeans.

His lips parted. “You’re so wet.”

“Yeah,” Darcy replied, her voice shaking like she’d never gone past second base before.

She could feel her face burning as she let her eyes rest on his dick, smelling his musk in the air, his middle finger pressing down, slipping closer to her entrance, Darcy’s breath hitching again. She could see a bead of precome forming at his crown and she rubbed her thumb through it, Steve rewarding her with a little groan, like he was slowly loosening in relief.

Watching her focus on his dick seemed to embolden him and he surged further ahead, rubbing her faster, persisting when Darcy bit back a needier moan, hating the sound she couldn’t help making. She was self-conscious, not wanting to seem like it was a performance. She tended to be so goofy that at times like these she was surprised it didn’t just stop altogether because she made it too weird or awkward, but this felt different with Steve. There were no drawn out pauses, he wasn’t hesitating.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, and her eyes swung up from his crotch, and she was trapped in his intense stare.

“Uh, sure,” she said, and he turned slightly inward to catch her lip between his two, Darcy’s eyes closing.

He angled to the side and went deeper, tongue slipping past her lips as he drank from her, determined, and Darcy moaned again, the sound muffled against Steve’s lips.

His hand came up to grab her face, a little rougher than Darcy expected, but by the speed of his hand on her cunt, it made sense. It made her feel bolder, her glasses surely fogging up as he licked at her, promising her more if she let him in. She was sure it was what he was showing her through his touch, pulling back a little to look her in the eye.

“That feel good?” he whispered, and she nodded, swallowing.

Her lips felt rubbed raw, her skin burning, her thighs starting to quiver. His warm breath on her mouth, he kept talking.

“You gonna come?”

Darcy rolled her hips. “ _Yeah_ …”

She could hear his hand moving, that was how wet and greedy she was, hips circling as she rode his hand, her own hand still stroking him.

“Show me what you look like,” Steve whispered. “Wanna see you. Wanna see you come…”

“Oh, God,” Darcy whimpered, slamming her eyes shut as her climax hit her, her whole body shuddering over the edge, and for a blissful few seconds she was weightless and above the couch, Steve’s hand still working her, his forehead pressed to hers.

“Attagirl…”

“Oh, God,” she said again, taking several huge gulps of air, blinking back reality.

He kissed her hard, and Darcy’s hand came back to life, moving faster, jerking him at a near brutal pace, feeling him strain and grow hotter in her palm.

He only lasted another minute longer than her, groaning into her neck, fucking into her fist, spilling over as he held the back of her neck, pushing her further into the couch.

She could feel the mess seeping out between her fingers, and it startled her how right it felt to know what he sounded like when he came, and how she liked his come on her skin.

He pulled back, panting and kissing her forehead.

“Best buds, huh,” he whispered, chuckling when Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Shut up…”

She couldn’t stop grinning at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	16. Darcy/Bucky - Impact Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **littleogre8695 said:** Hi here's a prompt for Wintershock Bucky can not decide he likes Darcy in lingerie from his time or Darcy in lingerie from her time or both? thanks :)

_I ain't afraid of a little pain_   
_(No, I ain't 'fraid of a little pain)_   
**\- Freak by Doja Cat**

The wire was digging into the underside of Darcy’s boob, which made her feel very unsexy. So maybe she’d got the sizing wrong, or she’d gained some weight unawares. Either way, the satin was dimpling in certain areas and she couldn’t breathe that well.

She turned in the mirror, frowning. She’d bought this on a whim, along with the other purchase that lay behind her on her bed. This was the modern cut, a Victoria’s Secret set with a matching thong. Everything was bright red like a coke bottle, which was the idea, with diamante accents. Darcy stood on tip-toe to get the full effect.

Her tits were so big they were just in anyone’s face, and this outfit was frankly pornographic and she was regretting it the longer she wore it, simply because she didn’t like to seem like she was trying too hard. Darcy’s idea of lingerie was usually a black cotton thong and a baggy t-shirt on top. It seemed to make Bucky happy and cuddle her with a boner digging into her lower back…

She called out:

“Buck?”

He was currently sitting in the living room with the remote in his hand, last time Darcy checked. She’d answered the door to sign for her package yesterday but only opened it now in the mid-afternoon, contemplating whether or not to return it.

“Come here a sec,” she added.

He appeared in the doorway a minute later, his footsteps audibly halting.

“Whoa.”

She turned toward him. “Honest thoughts.”

“Uh,” he said, eyes roving her, barely suppressing his smile. “It’s… good.”

“Okay,” Darcy said, scooping up her hair and showing him the back. “I think it’s too small.”

“Maybe,” Bucky said eventually, though she got the impression he was barely listening to her.

“Bucky.”

“What’s that?” he blurted, definitely distracted, eyes snapping to her face.

Her eyes drifted down to his crotch where the outline of his dick could clearly be seen through his gray sweatpants. She pressed her lips together for a second to collect her thoughts.

“I want an actual opinion. There’s a second option,” she said, pointing to the outfit she’d laid out on the bed covers, Bucky following her finger, but still looking at her every couple seconds as if to check she was still there dressed as she was. “I’ll try this other one on.”

She unceremoniously began to pull apart the Victoria’s Secret lingerie, a few pink marks on her bare chest telling her she should at least get the next size up, tugging down the thong in tow, grabbing the second outfit to piece it together.

She saw Bucky’s hand squeeze himself through his pants for a second, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“You look good wearing nothing,” he said, breaking the brief silence.

“Thanks, but I am interested in investing in _actual_ lingerie,” Darcy retorted, beginning to put the bodice together, her tits pushing together and up, almost high enough to brush her chin. “The shipping alone was extortionate.”

By feel alone the second outfit, an aubergine vintage style set she’d bought for slightly more than what she got at Victoria’s Secret was the better choice. Nothing was cutting into her sides, though it was still a snug fit. It was snug in a good way, everything sort of compact and streamlined. At least the 20th century made underwear kind of cool, so elaborate it was like wearing some type of sexy armor, especially when Darcy pulled on the matching suspenders for her stockings she rolled on.

All the while Bucky was standing in the doorway watching her.

“What do you think?” Darcy said, turning toward him, hands on her wide hips.

“I think,” Bucky begun, stepping inside finally and making his way the short distance from the door to her by the mirror. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Worth it,” Darcy murmured.

“Really?” Bucky said, hips touching hers, his hands on her waist.

He was staring down at her, heat in his eyes. He licked his lips and then bit his bottom one, sucking in a breath.

“Jesus.”

“I’m gonna keep the second one,” Darcy managed to get out, before Bucky kissed her and spun her toward the bed, laying on top of her.

“Keep ‘em both,” he said through rough kisses, marking her neck as his hands roved her chest and sides, Darcy’s thigh hitching over his hip, grinding against his erection. “At least then one of ‘em will be in the laundry while you wear the other…”

“Practical,” Darcy murmured, giggling.

“Yeah, I’m an ideas man…”

She moaned when his thumb brushed over tiny satin crotch, Bucky’s hands gliding down to her hips as he drew back for air, their eyes meeting.

“What are you thinking about?” she whispered, wanting him to speak, like he knew she liked, his lips pulling into a cheeky smile.

“I’m thinking about getting inside you as fast as I can…”

“You gonna keep it all on?” she whispered, and his hands were already taking hold of her underwear by the waistband to pull them down, shaking his head as he kissed her again, slower than before but nonetheless consuming.

He took her by surprise, flipping her over, burying his face between her legs and Darcy gave a little yelp that morphed into a snort she smothered with a hand over her mouth, only to grip the blankets a second later, he was ruthless with his tongue –

He was fucking her his mouth, fingers pinching her clit as Darcy moaned, wanting to writhe, and then she was begging him without shame, turning to look at him over her shoulder.

“Bucky…”

His hand came down on her right butt cheek and Darcy jumped, since it was new but not unwelcome. He soothed the sting with a fond rub, then did it again when Darcy let out another needy whine.

Darcy changed tactic, deciding to goad him instead of being reasonable.

“You know you wanna do it, no-one’s stopping you.”

She gave a swivel of her hips, teasing him with her rear, backing into his crotch, and Bucky held her in place with a hand on the small of her back.

He spanked her three times in a row and Darcy squealed, laughing as Bucky tugged down his pants, his cock bobbing between them.

He filled her to the hilt with a grunt, Darcy gasping, his hips snapping to meet her ass, Darcy’s whole body shifting forward. She took hold of the bedsheets once more to stop herself from sliding, Bucky speeding up, each thrust punctuated by their moans.

“I like your little outfits but I like what’s underneath way more,” Bucky panted, fucking her long and hard, Darcy’s delighted moans overlapping with his words. “You gonna come or am I gonna have to -”

He spanked her harder than before.

“-rip it outta ya, sweetheart?”

“Fucking –”

Darcy lost vision, his fingers pinching her clit, feeling a gush roll down her thighs, because Bucky was hitting a spot deep in her core that made her toes curl with his fingers on a good day. His cock was another thing entirely.

Bucky grunted at the sensation of her slick, hips speeding up to his erratic pace that signified the end, and he was shoving deep inside her, flattening her to the bed as he came, hips still rocking until he had nothing left to give…

He pulled out and flopped onto his back while Darcy rolled onto hers, both of them panting.

“Jesus, my heart, feel,” Bucky panted, grabbing one of Darcy’s hands to press to his chest, her hands sweaty, his left pec the same.

She began to giggle breathlessly as she felt his heart hammering in his chest, Bucky’s dazed smile to accompany it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	17. Darcy/Steve - Formal Wear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little angst with the smut today but it all works out, I promise
> 
>  **cw** : emotional cheating

_Quick, quick, quick, let's go_   
_Kiss me and take off your clothes_   
_Imagine a world like that_   
**\- "imagine" by Ariana Grande**

The cab ride was tense, the silence stretching on and on. Darcy had torn the veil off and clutched it in her right hand, her bouquet still in her left.

“I could kill you,” she snarled, but her stomach was all butterflies.

This man may have just ruined her life, and she loved him for it, glaring at the side of his handsome face as he stared straight ahead, hands in his suit pockets. Darcy’s wedding dress was taking up the majority of the backseat like some kind of white tulle cloud. Darcy knew how much that tulle cost per yard, she’d paid for most of it. She rubbed her eyes with her fist, groaning.

He hadn’t burst in as she was about to say ‘I do’ but he was pretty damn close. He’d managed to intercept her on her way to the aisle, meeting her in the hallway outside the chapel itself, Darcy pausing because it was Steve, she’d stop for him no matter what, even if they were playing _Here Comes the Bride_ and Ian was waiting for her at the altar.

Steve hadn’t even said ‘come with me’ or ‘don’t do this’. All he had to do was look her in the eye in front of Darcy’s procession - which included a six year-old cousin of Ian’s as her flower girl, looking very confused as she pouted up at them during the rehearsal yesterday – and take her by the hand for her to dash out into the open air and into the cab Steve had evidently taken to reach the church.

It was obvious that Steve’s intentions weren’t friendship since he had materialized in Sussex, England to be at her side moments before she married another man.

“I could _kill_ you,” Darcy said a second time, and he glanced her way.

Darcy immediately softened, Steve’s hand taking hers that still clutched her veil, putting her fist to his lips to kiss her knuckles, his throat bobbing.

Darcy kissed him, Steve’s hand transferring to the side of her face, gliding up into her fancy updo that took more than an hour to complete that morning, and she began to cry, melting into it. When they broke apart, their foreheads pressed together, he finally spoke as Darcy reached for his thin black tie.

“I wore the suit ‘cause I didn’t know if I’d go through with it.”

“You were gonna sit back and watch me marry Ian?” Darcy whispered, and Steve closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“I dunno. Probably not.”

They hadn’t even kissed before that day. Their friendship spanned a good two years and there had been plenty of flirting, until Steve finally confessed his feelings hours after Darcy told him Ian had proposed. Since then, she’d begun to unravel steadily for the last six months, pouring herself into the wedding planning just to keep her mind off of Steve and failing spectacularly.

“I love you, you stupid, stupid… asshole,” Darcy whispered, and he gave a little muted smile.

“I love you, too, Darcy,” he whispered back.

She felt guilty about Ian. She felt guilty about the money and the embarrassment, but that was all quickly eclipsed by Steve, and once they got to a hotel to check into in the nearest town, the receptionist staring at them both as it was clear Darcy was out of place, empty-handed as Steve was, neither of them needing help to carry bags to their room.

He scooped her up as the door shut behind them, carrying her to the bed and laying her down. It was just after twelve. If she’d married Ian, she’d be traveling to the reception by now, which was going to be under a massive tent.

It had started to rain and Darcy could hear it on the roof above them as Steve lay on top of her, kissing her with a tenderness that made her chest ache.

“Steve, you can’t hurt me,” she whispered. “Touch me…”

He sunk into another kiss, something tripping inside him as Darcy’s hands threaded through his hair, tugging enough to make her point.

They only needed to get enough clothes off to reach one another, Darcy thought, saying it out loud by Steve’s ear a second later, his hands squeezing her waist a little tighter.

“Yeah,” he breathed, agreeing, and then they were scrambling, undoing his pants, then digging underneath the ridiculous dress to reach her tiny underwear.

“Dental floss,” Darcy whispered, tossing it aside. “Stupid.”

Steve’s hand was between her thighs, stroking her as Darcy’s breath hitched, lifting up to give him another kiss, ending it with his lip between her teeth.

He surprised her by grabbing her by the wrists and pressing them into the mattress above her head, a new heat in his gaze, two fingers of his other hand tucking inside her.

“Tell me what you like,” he said, and Darcy let out a little laugh.

God, they hadn’t had sex before today. She was wearing her wedding dress with Steve Rogers fingerbanging her. She could smell a cologne he’d put on. He’d worn a tie. He’d most likely bribed someone to get him to Great Britain faster than it was probably legal. He was doing this all for her, and now he was asking her what got her off, so eager to please.

“What?” he said, smiling a little, because Darcy hadn’t said anything at all for some time, staring back at him.

“I – I don’t know,” Darcy babbled, biting her lip. “I’m all over the place –”

“Then we can stop,” Steve said, fingers retreating, but Darcy started up again.

“No, no, no,” she cut in. “I like it with – with my wrists, it’s like you wanna – it’s like you’re all worked up and I _like_ it. I like feeling wanted.”

“I do want you,” Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to her lips, light. “But you tell me. Do I go slow, or do I just fuck you already?”

The last part of his question made Darcy’s face flush, seeing and hearing the words come out of his mouth. She swallowed.

“Fuck me –”

He caught her in a kiss, Darcy’s moan following his, his wet fingers slipping out of her to help unbuckle his belt, and then they were shuffling together, and Darcy let out a helpless sound when he pushed inside her to the hilt.

“Oh, God, oh, God,” she whispered, because she hadn’t gauged how big he was, but the stretch was enough to make her freeze up.

“You okay?” Steve asked, Darcy’s hands still trapped by his, his thumb rubbing over one of her wrists.

His face was buried in her neck, but he sounded different.

“Yeah, you?” Darcy whispered, and he nodded.

“I’ll need a sec…”

“Okay,” she whispered. “Me, too, I think.”

He let out a little laugh, and Darcy felt her lips quirk at the sound.

“You feel… _so_ -”

“Thanks,” she whispered, turning her head to kiss his cheek, and then further to behind his ear.

She’d always wanted to kiss him there, and he didn’t disappoint, shifting a little inside her as he sighed. He made her feel so full she couldn’t keep quiet once he began to glide back and forth, testing the waters. She still made the soft little ‘ah’s even though Steve was so shallow with his thrusts he was being gentle.

“Steve,” she whispered, shifting her hips, and he finally released her wrists, Darcy’s hands going to either side of his face to pull him into a kiss.

Darcy wrapped her thighs around his hips, the dress still overwhelming them. She could see any of Steve beneath his waist, she could only feel him fill her to the brim, a steady pleasure beginning to build at the bottom of her spine, her face tingling from the stretch.

“Keep going,” she whispered, and she squeezed him in an attempt to encourage him, making him groan against her mouth.

She’d begun to tremble, Steve pulling almost all the way out before he slammed into her, Darcy’s eyes squeezing shut as she arched her back. Her chest was already straining against the satin fabric of her wedding dress, and Steve ducked his head to mouth at her throat and chest, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of her cleavage as his hips began to speed up.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered, and Darcy nodded, blinking up at him when he resurfaced.

“Y-yeah, I’ve wanted this for a while,” she whispered. “Could you -? Could you go a little harder?”

His mouth slanted over hers and he obliged, something breaking off in Darcy’s mind and she moaned, pinned beneath him as he took her in longer strokes, hitting a spot that made her cry out. His hands slipped under her dress to take hold of her hips, Darcy’s whole body jiggling with each slam of Steve into her.

Their eyes locked and Darcy felt her heart swell and squeeze inside her chest, her tummy doing flips, a sweat breaking out all over her… Steve’s lips parted as he watched her twist beneath him, a pressure building...

He put a hand close to his mouth, sucking his thumb before replacing it on her clit, finding it easily considering all the stupid tulle in the way, and Darcy sucked in a breath, the urge to shut her thighs strong enough for her to whimper and strain.

He pressed and rubbed, watching her face as she slowly shut her eyes, surrendering to the pleasure instead of fighting it.

She felt a real fear bubble up from the back of her throat and she bit back a sob, wanting to come but knowing what it meant when she did – that if they did this well together, making love, they were meant to be together.

She tightened up, coming hard and slow, gripping and slackening deep inside, Steve’s thrusts pausing as she rode out the wave, his thumb unyielding until she shook her head, a breathless giggle slipping out. She wiped her eyes with her hand as she panted, everything blissfully warm as she twitched through the aftershocks.

Steve’s hands came up from under her dress to cradle her face, wiping the tear tracks left behind, giving her nose a little kiss. With their foreheads pressed together, they stayed that way a little while, the rain falling outside.

Steve finally shifted, Darcy’s breath hitching, pleasure anew… he wasn’t gentle this time, getting lost fast, Darcy’s whispers in his ear encouraging him, telling him how good he felt, how she couldn’t wait to do it again. She was saying things she’d never said to Ian with a straight face before.

“I’m yours.”

He drew back from where his face was buried in her neck, his face different.

“M’close but we didn’t talk about –”

It was a little too late for a condom if they’d been barebacking this whole time, Darcy’s lips quirking at the thought, a sheepish glint to Steve’s eyes.

“I have an implant, it’s okay.”

He sunk into another kiss, his hips turning erratic, less precise. It still meant Darcy gripping his arms for dear life, feeling him twitch inside her as he came, his whole body shuddering. He gasped her name, almost unintelligible, which Darcy hadn’t had a partner do before.

He helped her get off the bed, the mess they made together trickling down her thigh. It was hard to pee in the dress, so she was glad to be rid of it, crawling back into bed, both of them naked, laying toward one another on their sides, their legs tangling.

“I left everything behind,” she murmured, Steve’s knuckles stroking her cheek. “My phone, my wallet. Fuck, _my passport_ – how’d you get here?”

“Jet. I had to ask Nat,” Steve replied. His voice was somehow both soft and rumbling. “She can get us home when we call.”

Darcy didn’t see herself racing back to New York today. She nodded, swallowing.

“What was that like, asking Nat for that?”

“You can probably imagine,” Steve said, and Darcy grinned, picturing Nat looking both smug and unimpressed, with pressed lips and a quirked brow.

“What did she say?”

“That you’d never forgive me,” Steve said, and Darcy went still, her smile fading.

He stared back at her, knuckles still stroking her, and Darcy took hold of his wrist, turning to press her mouth to kiss his knuckles.

“She’s right,” Darcy said, and Steve blinked at her. She kissed his knuckles again, her eyes meeting his. “But I love you, which is pretty convenient.”

“Yeah,” Steve rasped.

Darcy felt her eyes prickle and Steve shifted closer.

“Oh, honey…”

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Darcy lied.

He curled his arms around her, bringing her into his chest as he rested his chin on her head. She felt already a little better, skin to skin with him. She felt the guilt roll over her.

“I wish I’d picked you first,” she whispered.

“It’s okay…”

She tilted her head up and he kissed her, soft at first, until Darcy’s hand slipped down his hard stomach, his chuckle in her ears when she reached his crotch.

“Come on, we’ve gotta make up for it now,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	18. Darcy/Steve - Hair-pulling & Praise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you yet again to actual real-life angel **Em_Jaye** : 
> 
> Darcy calls Steve over because she's certain her new house/apartment is haunted and she's too nervous to check herself. Steve thinks it's just a booty call -- is surprised to find that her place actually does sound haunted as fuck. "What do you want me to do? I'm not an exorcist." "Well, I don't know. Do something to take my mind off it then. I can't sleep if I'm keyed up like this."

_If you're down, boy, really down_   
_Baby let me watch you go to town_   
**\- "Go To Town" by Doja Cat**

Darcy wrenched her door open, seeing Steve leaning against the frame with a little smirk on his face as he stared down at her.

“Come through.”

“Sure,” he replied.

Darcy had already turned her heel and walked down her hallway, holding a dishrag and twisting it every so often, stopping in her hallway. She was glad he raced over there instead of taking his sweet time, she’d been too anxious for time to seem to function normally.

Steve stopped behind her, frowning when Darcy looked his way once more.

“Thanks for coming, I know it sounds absolutely batshit –”

“Wait,” Steve said suddenly, putting up a hand. “You… you were serious about the ghost?”

“I don’t know if it’s a ghost, but there’s something creepy happening,” Darcy retorted.

The silence between them stretched and Steve tilted his head, perplexed, Darcy doing the same. She felt her shoulders loosen a little, her body beginning to slump.

“What did you _think_ I meant?” she asked.

“It’s after midnight and you texted me if I was up,” Steve said. “I thought maybe the spooky story was a cover story –”

Darcy’s nose scrunched in disgust. “You mean, like a _booty call_? Steve. Ew.”

“ _Okay_ , message received,” he said, looking away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I figured you were kidding about the ghost.”

“Again, didn’t know if it was a ghost,” Darcy said, her own hand raised. “And it’s not so much ‘ew’ about the booty call. It’s more like, why wouldn’t I just ask you to come over if I could. That was the ‘ew’.”

“I’m not _hurt_ –”

“You seem a little pressed.”

“I’m fine,” Steve said, closing his eyes briefly. He did that a lot around Darcy, she noticed. “Where’s your ghost?”

Darcy was sure this incident wasn’t helping her I’m Not A Dumb Child narrative, especially since the last time they spoke which was earlier that afternoon she’d been eating dunkeroos in the common room and trying to come up with the best .gif to reply to an email Fury had sent the lab about bottlenecks in the hallways. Darcy knew it wasn’t Fury himself who sent it out but one of his secretaries, but she still wanted it known that she still owned the art of the perfect .gif response. Steve had walked into the kitchen and stopped at the fridge to fill his glass with ice water, glancing over Darcy’s shoulder and frowning.

“It was a creepy sound, I don’t know if it’s a ghost,” Darcy said, pointing toward the ceiling. “Could you look in my attic?”

Steve blinked at her, hands on his narrow hips. He ran his tongue across his lip, breathing a sigh.

“Please?” she added.

“You got a ladder?” he muttered, and she nodded.

She got it out of the little cupboard and handed it to him, watching as he placed it under the little door by the light fixture. Darcy knew he’d probably not need the ladder but he was probably trying to be civilised to make the point that the situation was beyond ridiculous.

Darcy’s eyes fell to his butt as he climbed up, his upper half disappearing. He was wearing those navy pants that hugged his hips, and Darcy drew in a breath, admiring the view.

“Thanks, y’know, for coming out here,” she called.

She heard a vague ‘uh-huh’ or something similarly unimpressed, watching as the rest of Steve disappeared into the darkness of the attic above. Darcy swallowed, listening out.

“Steve?” she called eventually.

She took a step toward the ladder, holding onto its sides and taking a deep breath. She hated using this thing. Every time she did she’d convince herself it was how she was going to die. She knew she was clumsy that way. It would either be that or in the shower, slipping and cracking her head open. It wouldn’t be a heroic death like Steve’s was bound to be…

She began to climb, holding her breath to try to fortify herself, letting it go as her head disappeared into the dark. She kept talking to try to distract herself from how her heart was racing.

“Maybe if I bitched to the right person I could move into the Tower instead of living out here…”

She was about to segue into Steve being the one to put a word into management but instead she felt a hand on her shoulder and screamed, only to have Steve shush her and laugh.

“Darcy, it’s me.”

“Don’t _do_ that!” she shrieked, and she was lifted into the attic the rest of the way, her hands batting at him to let her go. “Jesus Christ, read the room, Steve.”

His flashlight from his phone shone directly into her face and Darcy scrunched up her face, covering her eyes with a hand.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all.

When Darcy recovered enough to adjust to the dark, glancing around, Steve’s light followed her line of sight, his voice patient.

“See? Nothing up here but a bunch of dust and cobwebs.”

Darcy nodded, but she wasn’t convinced.

“What did it sound like? The noise,” Steve said, and Darcy shrugged.

“Kind of like…”

There was a click-click-click and a strain of wood like the structure of the roof was being stretched and Darcy sucked in a breath.

“Darce, it’s nothing,” Steve’s voice was softer, gentle. “It’s probably just the wind.”

“Right, and I’m just paranoid.”

“Well, it is a creepy sound,” Steve murmured, hand on her shoulder again.

Darcy reached for him and squeezed his hand, hoping his touch would calm her, ground her to the spot. She gulped.

“I hate living here.”

“I’ll talk to someone about it tomorrow,” Steve said. He gestured to the entrance and Darcy nodded, making her way back.

She was faster on her way down, the ladder wobbling, and she was shaking as she watched Steve jump down with ease, sans support. Their eyes met and Steve shut off his flashlight.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?” she said, and Steve went still. “After hearing how creepy that sound was?”

As if on cue the creaking sound started up again, with the echoing click-click-click. Darcy shuddered, hugging herself.

“I’m too keyed up to sleep now,” she added, as Steve reached to rub her arms.

Steve lowered himself slightly so he was closer to her height, but he didn’t seem condescending to her, at least not yet. His hands on her were helping distract her a little, she had to admit.

“Darce,” he said, voice soft, calm. “You’re safe. One day we’ll laugh about me running down here to find demons in your attic.”

“You ran?” Darcy said, and he pressed his lips together. “Because you thought it was a booty call?”

His jaw ticked and he swallowed.

“I…”

Darcy caught him in a kiss, her hands coming up to grab him by the hair to keep him in place, and he grunted in surprise, his hands slipping down to catch her by the waist, and they stumbled backwards until Darcy was pressed into the wall.

“Keyed up, huh?” Steve murmured when she drew back, and Darcy swallowed.

“Yeah, you… you got any better ideas?” she threw back, trying to sass him though her voice was wobbling.

He kissed her like he meant to eat her whole, one hand slipping down and grabbing a handful of her ass, Darcy’s thigh hitching up over his hip, and he was lifting her slowly up the wall, her feet leaving the floor completely as he devoured her.

Darcy kept tugging at his hair, a little harder with each pass of his tongue he was fucking her mouth with, nipping at her lips as he hissed, hips grinding into hers.

“Is this how you imagined it, when I texted you?” Darcy whispered, when he gave her space to breathe, mouthing at her chest now over the space of skin he could reach, his deep chuckle vibrating through her.

“Why don’t I show you?” he threw back, and Darcy felt her face flush, flooded with fresh arousal, sure she looked like she was possessed with lust.

He grew possessive, kissing her where he wanted, grabbing however he needed her, steering her from the wall and down the hallway, into her bedroom and placed her back on her feet.

He knelt, Darcy’s heart in her throat as he tugged down her leggings, staring up at her as he began to kiss her bare legs, clutching her knee and pushing her legs further apart.

“Steve…”

Darcy clutched the back of his head as he sealed his mouth over her cunt, his tongue pressing up inside her, the air leaving Darcy’s lungs in a rush. She was light-headed already, not quite believing this was happening, Steve on his knees for her, his tongue fucking her in fast strokes, the wet sounds flooding her ears and making her gnaw at her lip.

“Oh, my God…”

Her head fell back and he gripped her ass. He was the only thing keeping her upright. Darcy felt as though she could melt into the floor, gasping as Steve began to rub at her clit with this thumb, still pushing his tongue back and forth, his head bobbing. Darcy let out a near-delirious little giggle, her free hand finally coming up to settle on her chest, pinching a nipple over the fabric of her sleep shirt between her fingers.

Steve pulled back a little to speak, his voice still muffled. She could feel his warm breath on her wet cunt, shivering a little at the sensation.

“You gonna come for me?”

Darcy’s chest heaved and she finally tilted her head back down, locking eyes with him as he set back to work, tongue working inside her as he pinched her clit and rolled it.

“ _Yeah_ …”

It was more of a breath than a word, Darcy’s whole body tightening, her orgasm slamming into her a moment later, her fingers like claws on the back of his head, and Steve groaned, licking it all away. Darcy angled away, panting for air, stroking his hair now as Steve pressed sticky kisses to her mound and inner thighs, pushing her back…

She landed on the bed, and he settled on his knees once more, throwing Darcy’s thighs over his shoulders as he went back in for more, Darcy’s hands on his neck and face.

“I don’t think I’ll… come again for a little while,” she whispered. “You might have to set up shop for a bit.”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve murmured, and Darcy smiled, moaning when he began to suck at her clit lazily, his finger brushing at her folds. “Can I -?”

“Yeah,” Darcy breathed, and he pushed inside, Darcy’s hips tilting, wanting more already.

He added another finger, pushing past the first knuckle, gliding aimlessly and swirling his tongue around her swollen clit. Darcy didn’t tend to give men extended eye contact, but she couldn’t look away now, he looked almost peaceful down there, sighing with flushed cheeks.

“Want me to return the favour?” she murmured, a few minutes into his languid licking, and he chuckled right against her cunt.

“I was sorta hoping you had a rubber,” he replied, and Darcy propped up on her elbows, turning her head toward her bedside table, thinking.

“Yeah, I think I got some. You want me to -?”

“I’ll get it in a sec,” he whispered, pulling on her clit a little harder, and Darcy flopped back down, barely stifling the moan he drew from her.

Her hands were back on his hair, tugging a little, directing him. His fingers moved a little faster and Darcy made a pleased chuckle, rolling her hips. He stayed down there, every minute or so picking up the pace, just enough for a steady build, but Darcy was getting impatient.

“Steve,” she whined, pushing into his face. “I want…”

Steve pulled back, panting a little, but he seemed at ease, his hair mussed and his face wet and pink.

“What, sweetheart?”

The petname made Darcy pause, her lips parting.

“When are you getting up here?” she murmured, wanting to kiss him again.

“After you come again,” he retorted, lifting a brow. He sunk back down, licking around her clit as his fingers pumped a little faster. “I’m meant to be calming you down, right?”

There was an edge of cheekiness to his tone, then he sucked on her clit again, shutting up. Darcy moaned, his fingers speeding up once again. He persisted, growing relentless, Darcy’s eyes widening as she felt herself melt more on his face, rubbing up against him as she whined at the back of her throat.

“Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop,” she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut. “Fuck, don’t… stop…”

He pulled back for a second, voice muffled.

“Let go, sweetheart. Let go so I can feel you…”

“Fuck,” Darcy gasped, lifting her hips, yanking his hair.

The warm pleasure rolled back over her and Darcy shuddered through it, her body rocking against Steve’s in a desperate writhe, claws deep in his hair. She was sure she’d smother him if she didn’t let her thighs fall back down from his ears, panting and sweating. With shaking hands, she tugged him and he let her pull him on top of her, their mouths colliding.

Everything was wet and messy but Steve kissed her hard, Darcy’s arm thrown out toward the bedside table, but Steve was quicker, grabbing a condom from the top drawer and sitting back, hands shoving down his pants with the wrapper in his mouth.

“Oh – Jesus,” Darcy whispered, seeing his cock bob free and she thought about it inside her. “Uh, were you going to warn me?”

He kissed her instead of answering, managing to roll on the condom in between breaths, gathering Darcy in his arms, slotting between her thighs once more…

Darcy made a choked little sound when he pushed inside, a few little thrusts until he bottomed out, Darcy’s eyes falling shut as she tried to swallow down what she was feeling, because Steve inside her was like nothing else she’d had before.

“I…”

Words failed her, and she was so grateful of the extensive foreplay because he felt impossibly deep, beginning to move back and forth with soft pats against her ass, their noses brushing.

“You’re staying over, right?” Darcy slurred, and she saw him smile, he was so close his eyes had become one.

“Can I?”

“Oh – fuck, _yeah_ ,” she moaned, because he slammed into her. “ _Please_ …”

He set a fast pace, Darcy’s hands back to his hair, pulling and gripping so hard she was sure it must hurt, but it seemed to only embolden him, kissing her with a fierceness Darcy felt like could almost bruise her. He was going to fuck her until she cried. She’d be walking differently tomorrow, swaying and stumbling to the bathroom when he wrecked her _completely_ really soon –

“Look at you, so beautiful,” he whispered, and Darcy gave a little shake of her head. She knew she was a sweaty mess, probably looked fuckdrunk and sloppy, but he smiled down at her, hips pistoning. “You are. Feel so good, too…”

“Steve…”

“I love making you come,” he whispered, kissing her, much lighter than before. He nuzzled her cheek, everything tender except for how he was fucking her into the mattress, Darcy’s body tightening up again in spite of how wrung out she already felt…

He bypassed her own hand and pinched her clit, watching her face, cuddling her as she came again, going completely silent for a few seconds before she sucked in a sharp breath, grunting and rocking into him. She squeezed all around him, breathing his scent in, feeling too much at once.

God, her sheets were probably ruined.

He lasted half of another minute, sealing his mouth over hers as he came, thrusting up into her as far as her body could allow. He groaned, hugging her as the world seemed to right itself in little increments…

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, pulling back to kiss her, Darcy’s arms thrown around his neck.

“Sorry I said ‘ew’ before,” Darcy whispered, and he began to laugh.

“It’s alright, sweetheart…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	19. Darcy/Steve - Thigh-fucking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's fic is thanks to Merideath once again. I decided to write Darcy as demi in this as well, but I'm sensitive of the fact that this isn't an own voices fic. I do not speak for my demisexual friends, if this isn't your experience it doesn't mean yours isn't valid. ❤

_Eat, sleep, wake_  
_Nothing but you_  
_Eat, sleep_  
_Nothing but you, nothing but you_  
**\- "Eat, Sleep, Wake (Nothing But You)" by Bombay Bicycle Club**

“I’m so lucky.”

It sounded like a line. Darcy knew it wasn’t. Steve spoke from the heart, always. It didn’t make it any easier, it made things as intense as she feared them to be in her own head.

He said this with his arm draped over her hips, hand on her butt, both of them lying on their sides in her bed. It was after dinner and he asked to stay over. It happened often enough, at least once a week. His little declaration still threw her off a little because technically they still hadn’t had sex.

Darcy wasn’t ready. She hadn’t said it out loud because she didn’t want to be mortified but it was clear, because every time he checked in with her she’d shy away, sometimes literally duck out of whatever was happening. She remembered the first time she felt his erection brush her stomach when he lay on top of her and she’d wriggled out from under him to dash into her bathroom and splash cold water on her face to calm down.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want Steve. Of course she did, she was just like this. She’d always been like this, and she was grateful that for once she was with a guy that didn’t take it personally or try to pressure her into sex. That had been her entire college experience, and for those three years she never stopped feeling all types of uncomfortable, no matter how much sex she made herself had.

She needed to work her way up to it. She liked to kiss him a lot, and the warm cuddles were nice. Sometimes she giggled about the morning wood he had digging into her back, which had to be a good sign.

She shook her head at him, turning to hide her face in the pillow. He moved his hand off her butt to hold her cheek, a slow smile forming on his face.

“No?”

“No,” she murmured, and he chuckled, kissing her forehead.

She moved her head toward his properly, his lips brushing her cheekbone now, his eyes falling to her mouth. He slanted his mouth over hers in a slow, heady kiss. Darcy made a little sound against his mouth, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he curled both arms around her to pull her into his chest, cradling her. He was very romantic and Darcy was decidedly _not_ , which made this all the more bizarre that she was comfortable this way with him.

Darcy was forming the words before she properly thought them through:

“I could… give you a blow job.”

He glanced down at her mouth again with a distinct heat but his words were sweeter.

“You don’t have to,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t do it because you think you _should_.”

That was exactly why she’d offered it. Darcy nodded, knowing she probably wouldn’t enjoy it, at least not today. She swallowed.

“My hand?”

“Do you want to?” Steve asked, brows lifting.

“I want to do something,” she murmured, their noses brushing.

Another kiss, a little rougher on his part, pushing her back into the mattress so he lay on top of her, his hands slipping down her sides, his eyes meeting hers as he hooked them into the waistband of her leggings. Darcy nodded and he pulled them down, Darcy’s hips lifting to help.

Her underwear was the simple boyleg kind she liked wearing most days. Steve shuffled further down until he was looping her thighs over his shoulders and lifting her shirt a little to kiss her tummy.

He’d done this before, so it wasn’t so scary, but he wasn’t going to take off her underwear. He licked over the edge of the material beneath her navel, Darcy’s breath hitching, his fingers trailing down her inner thighs. Darcy shivered reflexively, watching his every move so she wasn’t spooked or jolted.

He licked a long stripe over the cotton, right along the cut of her, and Darcy could feel she was wetter already. He’d smell her down there. He gave a little groan, appreciating it nonetheless, even with the barrier between his mouth and her actual skin.

“Can I -?”

Darcy nodded, and his thumb began to rub at her entrance through the cotton, Darcy’s face beginning to burn, her hands gripping the sheets for purchase. He was kind of inside her, but not quite. He mouthed at her clit and kept rubbing, teasing her for a little while, before he finally sucked at her, Darcy’s keening moan slipping out.

She couldn’t help herself, Steve felt _really_ good. He liked to earn her, he didn’t prod or grind without building her up first.

She came with her back arching off the bed, Steve sucking her through it, the sound obscene to Darcy’s ears, but it was worth the rush, the warm liquid her limbs became after, shivering through the aftershocks as she lay back down.

When he pulled back, she could see the dark curls of her pubic hair through her underwear. The material was soaked, and as he hovered above her, she saw the wet patch on his own underwear, showing his excitement.

Darcy’s hands moved of their own accord, and she was grabbing at his pants, tugging down his waistband to free him, as Steve tugged off his shirt to throw aside.

He’d never seen Darcy naked before but she’d seen him plenty of times. He wasn’t ashamed of his nudity like she tended to be. She remembered she couldn’t look him in the eye the first time she jerked him off so she’d shut off all the lights, her hands memorising every ridge and curve of him. Now, she was able to enjoy what she saw, but she wasn’t ready… she couldn’t decide how to tell him, to explain it with words.

She shook her head as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, swallowing thickly as his hands framed her face, pushing back her hair. He kissed her, nodding his understanding, his tongue slipping between her lips once more.

He tasted of her musk and normally Darcy would reel back, but he was so soft and patient, moving against her with just enough edge for her to know he was keeping himself in check, but he was clearly aroused, his hips moving to fuck her fist in shallow thrusts…

“Wait,” Darcy breathed, and they broke apart, her hand releasing him, and he went still, waiting.

He must have thought he’d screwed up, his mouth opening to say something, his eyes a little wider, but Darcy shook her head.

“No, I’m okay. Just…”

Her hands went to her underwear and she held her breath, watching his eyes dip down. She lifted her hips to pull everything down, Steve’s throat bobbing at the sight of her bare skin, the little thatch of hair she had.

“God, you’re so…”

She didn’t mind that he was talking to her body now, he seemed overcome by affection, not just lust. He caught her in a kiss, faster than before, his possessiveness beginning to show.

He cuddled himself to her, his dick rubbing between them as Darcy moaned by his ear, the warm weight of him less scary. She felt protected, almost, by the obvious strength of his build. Her hand lay over his heart as he kissed her breathless, pulling back with dark eyes.

“I can’t go all the way,” she panted and he nodded.

She pushed up against his chest, feeling undignified as she drew her knees up, glancing down at his cock that was leaking and pink. He took himself in his hand, stroking absently, his eyes on hers.

“You could – uh, fuck my thighs.”

It took a few seconds for Steve to process this, and then he was rubbing his face. He gulped, eyes slipping down to her lower half.

“Can I?”

“Yeah,” she said instantly, ready.

He moved closer once more, spitting into his palm and stroking himself. Darcy didn’t have any lube. She probably should, but there were a lot of ‘should’s in her life she was trying to ignore because Steve was looking at her like she was a gift. She told herself not to push him away, he wanted to love her in whatever way she’d let him.

Rubbing between her thighs, he felt sticky and slick at the same time, everything warm and smelling of his musk and spit. It was a lot and yet she was still able to watch him rock into her with mounting pace. She suspected he’d been a little desperate for the friction for some time when he was licking her before but he was trying to be a gentleman and not hump her bed.

“Keep going,” she whispered.

He was panting, staring down at her pussy, moaning a little as he picked up speed. He started rambling, which he was prone to do when he was close.

“You’re so beautiful, you feel so good…”

Darcy felt herself smile, watching him lose control, hips losing rhythm as he grew erratic.

He let out a long groan, closing his eyes.

“Can I -?”

“Come on me,” Darcy whispered, the words out of her before she could overthink them.

He took hold of himself once more and Darcy’s legs moved apart, her eyes focused on how he jerked himself, staring down at her nakedness. He groaned, pushing forward as he came, warm spurts falling onto Darcy’s stomach and mound, Steve’s free hand gripping her knee.

“Fuck,” he gasped, jerking himself until there was nothing left.

He was a full-body blusher and Darcy always liked that about him, seeing him pink and wrung out, almost stumbling as he recovered, looking down at what he’d done.

“Jesus, what a mess,” he mumbled.

Darcy sat up, feeling the trickle of everything, ignoring how much spill could get on the bedsheets – she could always do laundry, and she had plenty of blankets. She pulled him into a kiss, sucking at his tongue, Steve’s sigh like home to her.

“I love you,” he murmured when they broke apart.

“I love you,” she echoed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	20. Darcy/Ransom Drysdale - Shower Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be an entirely other fic but Ransom decided to invade so... here he is. He's a horny, fucked up muse. 
> 
> **cw** : slight dub con, dom/sub undertones, Ransom is his own warning; Darcy, the free real estate that she is, is not herself... like really at all

_There it is_  
_Wait! Find what you love and let it kill you_  
**\- "This Is Not A Game" by The Chemical Brothers & Miguel**

“No.”

She meant to slam her front door in his face, but he pushed back. Thankfully there was still the chain in the way so he couldn’t force the door without breaking something. Darcy hoped Ransom pulled something in his shoulder.

“Come on –”

“ _I said no_ ,” she snapped. “Do you want me to call the cops? I wonder if the same guys that pulled you off the street would process you tonight.”

She was referring to the reason they broke up a few days ago, after she’d bailed him out when he’d called her in the middle of the night. That had been the final straw, and she’d given him many chances. The guy was an asshole, no-one could deny it, but he’d had some softer moments Darcy had clung onto for months, on and off. She was about to rip her own scalp off of her skull in frustration by the time she tugged him out of the police station.

She’d screamed at him in the street, and she’d hoped that was the last time she’d see him, but now he was in her apartment building, one hand on her front door, his other hand on the door frame, towering over her. He didn’t seem altogether bothered by her threats, which only made Darcy want to stomp her feet.

“I missed you.”

“That doesn’t mean shit to me, Ransom, fuck off,” she snapped.

He laughed a little. She knew he always found her anger adorable. He was the only person she’d ever spoken to this way in all her life. He had a way of bringing out the absolute worst in everyone around him, he had to know that…

“What were you doing texting me this morning, huh?” he retaliated, and Darcy glanced away, feeling her stomach flip.

She’d been concerned, since she’d dumped him following a bar brawl and she wanted to know if this was turning into some new pattern of bad ideas he had. She’d sent in a brief check-in text, something like she’d hoped he was okay.

She regretted that now when she saw the triumphant gleam in his eye. He still had a place in her heart. He’d wedged himself in there some time ago and Darcy wished she could shake him.

-

They’d met at an event his mother Linda hosted. Darcy was volunteering as a favour for a mutual connection. She was an usher for a fundraising dinner, glad she wasn’t actually doing any food service job. She couldn’t think of much worse, waiting on the rich families congratulating themselves for helping homeless mothers in the wider New York State area. Darcy knew as a kid her own mom would have benefited from the organization, but it came with a lot of patronizing anecdotes about mothers trying to make ends meet.

None of those people there had ever worried about their next meal. Money wasn’t something they thought about. Darcy watched them all clap and simper. There were even some crocodile tears from the women that spoke at the podium. Darcy had her phone out as she hung by the back of the ball room on the Upper Eastside, snapping out of her Instagram scrolling when she heard a low chuckle to her right.

It was Ransom, wearing a camel coat over his cable knit sweater, shaking his head as he laughed at the woman who was crying over her own story about a single mother in Queens that she’d given a Burberry coat to.

“Really… makes you think,” the woman sniffled, and Ransom bit his cheek, snorting.

His father beside him hit his arm and Ransom sobered a little, his handsome face morphing back to bored. Darcy openly stared at him, since his outburst perfectly reflected her own cynicism. She didn’t find anything heroic about this entire afternoon.

Later, she was cornered by Linda when she was showing an elderly woman to the ladies’ room, feeling herself freeze up as she spotted Ransom with her, and Linda’s husband Richard.

“Darcy, there you are,” Linda said. “I meant to find you earlier and thank you for taking the time to be here this afternoon.”

Darcy supposed this was her window to thank Linda for the opportunity, but her heart wasn’t in it. She had a distinct inability to bullshit people, especially entitled rich people that offered their rings for her to kiss. She did take the hand she was offered instead.

“This is Richard,” Linda said, and he stepped forward, his handshake firm.

Darcy felt Ransom’s eyes on her and tried her best not to make eye-contact, letting Linda talk for a little while, giving context to her attentive husband.

“Darcy is here because Helen Cho recommended her people skills,” Linda said, giving a big smile.

Richard nodded, smiling a little wider.

“So, you’re good with people?”

“I’m the best,” Darcy said, with enough dryness to make his brows lift. She glanced at Linda, lips curling. “Helen says hi.”

(“Richard hits on me every time I see him, he’s a creep. I’m sorry in advance if he tries anything,” Helen had said on the phone.)

“Helen is a doctor,” Linda said, turning slightly to her husband, clearly unaware that he’d bothered Helen behind her back. “She’s second-generation Chinese American. Very wealthy in knowledge and experience.”

“She’s a geneticist,” Darcy corrected, her voice colder. “And she’s Korean.”

Ransom gave a little cough into his fist and Darcy finally glanced at him, seeing a distinct twinkle of mirth in his blue eyes. Her eyes swung back to Linda as she attempted to save face.

“Yes, yes, I am confusing her with another friend of mine…”

Darcy nodded, swallowing. Linda leaned forward to squeeze her shoulder.

“Again, I am so thankful you helped us out today.”

“You’re welcome,” Darcy said.

Linda pulled back, murmuring something to Richard. Ransom was watching Darcy as his parents departed to speak to another underling. Their son lingered, Darcy’s eyes meeting his.

“They didn’t introduce you,” she said, and he gave a little smirk.

“Yeah, that tends to happen,” he replied. “Ransom.”

“Darcy.”

“I heard,” he said. “You moved by those stories, Darcy?”

He must have known she was watching him from the back wall earlier, his voice dropping conspiratorially. She could misstep and have herself escorted out, there was still another half hour of mingling before they were all meant to leave.

“No,” she admitted. She figured it was better to tell the truth, he could probably read her if she lied.

There was no point in her being dishonest when he’d so clearly despised the speeches he’d heard, too.

“So why are you here?” she added, and his eyes traveled down her face to her mouth, settling there. “Doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“I was thinking about doing a line in the men’s room with a worthy partner,” he said, stepping forward as a waiter moved behind him. “Might break up some of the tedium.”

Darcy stared back at him, until he flashed a wider smile.

“Still doesn’t answer my question.”

She didn’t give a shit about him doing cocaine in the bathroom. He could have a nosebleed right now and she wouldn’t bat an eyelid. She might grab a napkin from a table for him and watch him clean up, but her stomach wouldn’t turn, and she wouldn’t think it was that surprising of these people.

“I don’t have any coke on me,” he murmured, and Darcy felt herself smirk, for whatever reason. “I’m here because I hoped to pick up some pretty desperate women.”

“Nice,” Darcy deadpanned.

“What about you? Do you hate yourself enough to make yourself come to Linda’s event?”

He must hate his mom to refer to her by her first name, or at least resent her enough for some reason to not have any warmth to his tone when he spoke of her. He sounded like he was referring to something he’d found on the bottom of his shoe.

“Looks good on a resume,” Darcy said. “You _don’t_ have any coke? How disappointing.”

She took the opportunity to move away, taking out her phone to see if Helen had sent her any texts, apologizing to her for all the pain this event caused. She stiffened as she felt a hand on the small of her back.

She sucked in a breath, seeing Ransom in her peripheral vision, regaining a little composure as she let her eyes fall back to her phone.

“I’m not that desperate, Ransom.”

“Which is why I’m following you,” he murmured by her ear, and Darcy felt her neck begin to tingle. “You’re the first person I’ve actually wanted to speak to all afternoon –”

“And it’s _actually_ not happening for you,” Darcy cut in, and he moved in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. Her eyes snapped up from her phone.

“You want to get out of here?” he asked, and she blinked up at him. “I mean it.”

She left with him, figuring he’d probably find himself too frustrated by her lack of enthusiasm for his attention, only to find herself enjoying the evening they spent together. They walked out of the fundraiser before everyone else, Ransom giving the coat check girl Darcy’s ticket, tipping her generously as some weird type of flex… Darcy kept giving him the ‘sure, Jan’ face as he paid for a cab, took them across town to a rundown diner, paid for dinner, asked her a ton of questions about her life.

He didn’t seem to mind when she didn’t return to favor, didn’t ask about him. She’d begun to learn about him from the moment she laid eyes on him anyway.

He put her in a cab and didn’t lean in for a kiss, just put up his hand with the ring on his pinkie finger instead as the cab pulled away from the curb, Darcy watching him through the window. She didn’t think she’d ever see him again, until he found her on Instagram and messaged her from some near-blank account, save for one picture of a sunset in Massachusetts somewhere, the fall colors of the tree leaves blending with the sky.

She agreed to go on a date. They slept together for the first time on his leather couch, Darcy in his lap, his fingers tugging her hair enough to make her eyes water.

Then he ghosted her for a week.

It became a pattern.

She knew the obvious solution was to throw him away like the trash he was, but there’d be moments in between his selfishness that Darcy knew she was lucky to see, like the way he’d come from his parents’ house, quiet and pale, staring at the wall as Darcy asked him why he had left her on read for three days straight.

Sometimes he’d smile down at her when she was in his arms and she’d see his heart, and she knew it was bruised. It was bruised like hers, and maybe toxic people were drawn to one another, or maybe he’d managed to trick her into thinking she could fix him.

She’d become a cliché, and the arrest had been the last straw, since only hours before he’d told her his mom was telling him to bring her over sometime, the molten contempt dripping from his mouth. Everything blurred and Darcy wasn’t sure which woman he was more upset with.

He hated that he cared about her at all, and he hated that his mom had seen it in him, too.

-

It was clear from the second he’d shown up at her door now, leaning over with that possessive flare to him that he’d meant to fuck her and leave her alone again for a while. Her pushing him away had crossed some line in his head, and he wanted revenge.

“Why’d you text me?” he pressed, voice lower.

The rumble to it made Darcy swallow, memories of him pulling her apart with his mouth creeping back. Her eyes averted and she tried to not care about him hearing her voice wobble.

“I was worried about you.”

“You missed me,” he corrected.

“That, too,” Darcy admitted.

She glanced up, and his face had changed.

“We’re not getting back together,” she whispered.

His jaw clenched at that. He watched as she moved to unlatch the chain from the door, opening it wide for Ransom to slip past her.

“I mean it, we’re not getting back together,” she said, shutting the door, her voice clearer.

Ransom’s eyes darted around the room before meeting hers once more, grounding her to the floor, her stomach flipping at the heat in his gaze.

“What were you doing before I showed up?”

“I was gonna shower and sleep,” Darcy said.

He took the three strides to meet her and caught her by the waist, Darcy’s head tipping to meet his in a rushed kiss, his fingers digging into her. Darcy leapt and he caught her, turning her around and walking her down the hallway to the bathroom.

He stripped off her clothes first, then his own. He drew the plastic shower curtain aside and turned on the water, yanking her under. He caged her with his arms, kissing her hard as he cupped her mound, thumb pressing into her clit.

He teased her, his other hand on her chest, her nipple between his fingers. He usually spent more time being thorough. Sometimes he kept at it until she was begging for him to fill her up, but this time he was hitching her up the wall, spreading her thighs to slot between them.

When he pushed inside her with a couple short thrusts, he hissed, an open-mouthed kiss following. He drew back, grinding her into the wall with his eyes locking onto hers, dark and hungry.

“Best pussy I ever had,” he whispered, and Darcy didn’t think that could possibly be true, but he didn’t lie to her.

As big of a shit Ransom Drysdale was, he was brutally honest.

She hated that she felt a little special, treasured almost. He began to buck into her, her back arching off the wall as she clung to his shoulders. He was doing most of the work, which seemed to suit him, fucking her faster when Darcy began to claw at his skin and moan by his ear.

She didn’t expect him to start moaning, too, their voices echoing under the water. If this was the last time, then she wasn’t going to hold back.

“Harder,” she panted. “Fuck me harder. _Harder_.”

He obliged with a groan, her cunt gripping him tighter, and he drew back to look her in the eye, Darcy’s chin lifting in defiance.

“Demanding little girl.”

Darcy’s face burned at the sentiment. It sounded so wrong it was right.

“Think you can talk to me like that?” he added, mouth slackening a little as Darcy squeezed him inside once more in retaliation. “Fucking – _goddamn_ –”

They both panted and moaned as he picked up speed, reaching a point that bordered on punishing, Darcy’s eyes smarting from taking each sharp drag of him. She began to whimper, her chin quivering, her eyes flying shut.

“That’s it, keep going,” he panted, and he fumbled, rubbing her clit with the tips of his fingers, his hips like a metronome, too precise for Darcy to focus on much else. “Come for me. Come for me…”

Her chest felt tight, her eyes watering as her climax slammed into her, Ransom’s groan indicating he could feel how good he’d made her feel. Darcy felt her whole body go rigid as he fucked her through the aftershocks, his breathless laugh mingling with her weak little whimpers.

He kissed her on the mouth, slower than before, with a tenderness that made Darcy want to cry. When he drew back, she took hold of his face, staring him down.

“You’re mine,” she whispered. “You’re mine, Ransom.”

She thought he’d fight with her, perhaps fuck her into another stunned silence, but instead he groaned, kissing her hard again, tongue probing as his hips began to lose rhythm.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come…”

He pinned her to the wall with a groan, his dick jumping inside her as he emptied, panting and clinging to her. He kissed her, languid and warm, Darcy’s face burning like his was, cheeks pink.

He lowered her to the floor, Darcy swaying a little on the spot. They both looked down at the messy space between her legs, and then they were both trying to rid her of it, right down the drain. Satisfied, Darcy turned her back to him, letting the water fall on her face as he closed her eyes.

She gave a gasp when she felt Ransom wrap a hand around her neck, pulling her back.

His voice was rough in her ear.

“You’re _mine_ , got it?” he hissed.

Darcy felt herself nod, unable to form words. She knew she’d crossed another line before, attempting to boss him around. She wondered what else she’d need to do to warrant this response. Maybe if she showed up at a family gathering with him and got along with his mother.

It didn’t make sense, but she wanted him angry and loving at the same time.

“Is that the best you can do?” she whispered, finding her voice after she gulped some more steamy air into her lungs.

“Don’t,” he warned, his other hand slipping down her front, cupping her mound.

Darcy let out a broken moan, Ransom rewarding her with a chuckle. His hand wrapped around her throat slipped up to her lips and he pushed two fingers into her mouth, his middle finger of his other hand pressing down on her clit. Darcy bucked into his hand, sucking his fingers obediently.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, middle finger circling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written [a longer fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22433737) with this pairing, but it's not related to this storyline.
> 
> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	21. Darcy/Bucky - Pegging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Anonymous said:** This might be weird? But for anal, maybe you could do pegging for Darcy/Bucky?
> 
> Definitely not weird. Very happy to oblige. This is the first time I've written this, so please be kind.

_Oh, you're mine to take_  
_I wanna hear the sounds that you'll make_  
_Drivin' me crazy with the way you whine_  
_And you can call me that bitch_  
**\- "Gimme" by Banks**

Every time Darcy rocked into Bucky, he’d let out a little puff of breath.

There was so little give to his body, and he was way tenser than the time she fucked him with her fingers wrapped in a condom with about a gallon of lube. Last time, he’d jerked himself onto her face and it was messy and exactly what Darcy dreamed of. She had no idea what she expected with a silicone dick inside Bucky’s ass but he was shivering constantly and it was everything, seeing him spread out like this beneath her, keening with each thrust of her hips.

The harness was a new purchase, and it was a strange feeling having something to swing around between her legs. She understood why now that Bucky always seemed to be touching himself, either consciously or not.

“God,” he groaned, and his eyes were staring at Darcy’s tits, watching them give a little jiggle with each thrust.

He was on his back, holding on to the bedsheets, his body arching off the mattress when she first pushed inside. He’d been prepared, with fingers that bordered on gentle, barely brushing against his prostate. Darcy could feel her face was burning but he was so beautiful, all that raw strength pinned to the bed because he was stretched beyond comprehension.

“Jesus, now I know why you make such a racket when I do this to you,” he muttered, and Darcy gave a soft chuckle.

“You good, babe?” she teased, and his eyes met hers.

“I’m… fuck, keep goin’,” he groaned, throwing his head back as she picked up speed.

She was still moving in shallow strokes, Bucky’s skin shining with sweat, his abs tensing and releasing. Darcy slipped a hand down to glide over his stomach.

“Relax,” she whispered, going still. “Remember? You’ve gotta breathe.”

“God, you’re like fuckin’ dream,” he moaned, eyes slipping up to her chest and then her face.

He gave a dazzling smile, a little dazed, and Darcy grinned back at him.

“Look at you,” he whispered.

Only Bucky would be hitting on her when she was more or less balls-deep inside his ass, his hands reaching to touch.

“Nuh-uh,” Darcy said, batting a hand away. “You’re coming first.”

“Won’t take much,” Bucky bit out, as Darcy beared down as best she could, still a little amateur with her strokes. “ _Shit_ …”

“You’re telling me,” Darcy retorted, glancing down at his cock that was bobbing with each thrust.

It had been drooling all over the place for the last half hour, pink and straining toward Darcy with interest, but she’d wait for a little longer before Bucky returned the favor. It was going to be a long night, but it was the best kind of night, so worth it to see the look on Bucky’s face when he was nearing his end, cheeks flushed –

Darcy managed to grab hold of him and jerked him as she fucked him harder, faster. His body went rigid, a tendon standing out on his neck as his eyes flew shut.

The sound he made when he came was different to anything Darcy had heard before. It was a surprised little sound that grew and grew, morphing into a helpless moan, cords of come falling on his stomach, all the way up to his chest.

He kept going and going, until he was wrapping a hand around Darcy’s wrist, shaking his head.

“Stop, stop, stop… fuck, Darce…”

He pulled her all the way in, keeping her there as he planted a sloppy kiss to her mouth, his brow wet with sweat. When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead to hers, panting.

“You gotta get outta me slow,” he mumbled.

She obliged, Bucky watching with his breath held, groaning when he was empty once more. He stared at the dildo as Darcy moved back to clean it with some baby wipes.

“You know, you’re bigger than this,” Darcy murmured, hands going to her harness to loosen it and unfasten it from her hips.

“What?” he said, screwing up his face. “ _What?”_

Darcy snorted, barely smothering the sound with her hand. "Uh, _yeah."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	22. Darcy/Steve/Bucky - Threesome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **everythinghappens-love said:** If you're still taking prompts, i'd like to see WinterShieldShock and rough sex/doggystyle?

_Life is but a dream_   
_Here we are inside of it_   
_and you're inside of me_   
_Until you actually fall asleep_   
**\- "Moment" by Victoria Monét**

Darcy’s hips rolled against Bucky’s, his tongue slipping between her lips as her eyes flew shut, her breath hitching.

They were making out on the couch, still wearing clothes for now, pretending to ignore Steve as he sat right next to them, remote in hand.

“Really?” he said, and Darcy turned her head to the side, glancing his way as Bucky kissed her cheek, then the hinge of her jaw, his erection rubbing against her crotch.

She liked sitting in his lap because she liked the feeling of big arms wrapped around her, cradling her to his chest as he kissed her in a mixture of tender and rough touches, nipping at her bare skin, fingers threading through hair…

Her eyes met Steve’s and she feigned nonchalance, turning her attention back to Bucky, mouths meeting once more.

She’d had a bad day. She lost some data and spent over two hours retrieving it from the very back of a terabyte she unearthed from a dusty cupboard. She spilt coffee on her shirt, the hot liquid making her hiss and hobble over to the sink. Jane called her a drama queen, which made Darcy call her a jerk. It was dumb but it made Darcy prickly. Her shoelace snapped, and she’d forgotten her umbrella when she raced out to get coffee in the afternoon in an attempt to cheer herself up.

Here, she didn’t have to worry about anything. Here, there was Bucky and Steve. Bucky was the one that whispered her something nasty about bending her over the couch when Steve was in the kitchen getting beer. Bucky had taken the opportunity to touch her first, though Steve’s hand had been on the back of her neck for most of the night.

Correction – Bucky was the first one to tell her he was going to fuck her, so she went along with it.

She knew Steve wasn’t really pissed off. She could see he was hard already, watching the two of them wrapped up in one another, Bucky’s hands making quick work of Darcy’s jeans, popping the button and pulling down her fly.

He wet his fingers and slipped them down past her navel, circling her clit, sucking her tongue back into his mouth. Darcy let out a little sound, feeling overwhelmed already, breathless and needy. Bucky coaxed her toward the edge, her grip on the couch behind him tightening as she fought against it, wanting to relish in the pleasure before the fall, but he was pulling back, looking her in the eye.

“I got you,” he whispered, and she nodded, eyes falling closed once more.

She went slack-jawed, huffing against the side of his face as she came, a hard throb that radiated down to her toes, her body shivering and rolling with it, and he gave a little breathless laugh, catching her in another searing kiss.

She felt lips brush at the space behind her ear and she smiled, knowing Steve had enough of watching, the joke playing out long enough. It was fun to goad him, she and Bucky did it every so often. Darcy was the ringleader, even with her clothes yanked off when she’d barely got used to the surroundings of her post-climax glow.

Something was said, about her on all-fours, and Darcy glanced over her shoulder, hands flat on the cushion of the couch, laying her stomach across Bucky’s lap now with Steve’s hands on her rear. She made her eyes swing to meet Steve’s, his hands leaving her to shuck down his sweatpants.

She lifted herself a little, hands reaching for Bucky’s fly. He kissed her, cupping her jaw, groaning when she palmed him over the front of his underwear once she managed to get a hand inside his pants. She felt the crown of Steve’s cock rub up against her cunt and she bit her lip, anticipating the stretch.

Of course her imagination never did it justice, and she moaned into it as he slid home, Bucky’s lips curling in another smile.

“You always look like a dream, taking him like that,” he whispered. “Like you’re built for it.”

“You’d know,” she retorted, kissing him, a light peck on the lips.

She’d seen Bucky get fucked plenty of times. Sometimes she’d been under him when it happened, Bucky pushing into her as Steve pushed into him, a tangle of limbs.

She tried to smother her own moans as Steve began to thrust into her slow and sharp by wrapping her lips around Bucky and taking him to the back of her throat. He groaned, and then she felt Steve go still inside her, moving to lean into a kiss with him. It sounded wet and messy, and Darcy re-doubled her efforts, swirling her tongue around as she twisted her fist right around Bucky’s shaft.

She backed into Steve, and he let out a chuckle, his hand smoothing over her lower back. He bucked into her a little harder and she moaned, her whole body shifting forward. Bucky caught her, his fingers threading through her hair again, to push it out of her face to watch her work him over in greedy sucks.

Her jaw ached and she knew Steve was going to make her cry and it was everything, knowing they’d wipe her clean when she fell apart.

She was suddenly yanked back from Bucky, a surprised squeak slipping out as Steve tugged her so she was bending backwards, his hand on her neck, doing the same as Bucky with pushing the hair out of her face.

“Gimme a kiss,” he murmured, and it was an upside down one, her spine stretched as she tingled all over, unable to keep the smile from her face.

He broke away with his own little smile, pushing her back to Bucky, letting her fall forward with a sigh. She went back to using her mouth on Bucky while he caught her hair in his fist, tugging every so often as Steve began to move once more.

It was hard to concentrate at the task at hand when Steve was that deep inside her, splitting her open with a hand slipping down her front to pinch her clit and roll it.

When she came a second time, her whole body went rigid before she shuddered all over, Bucky falling out of her mouth as she shoved her face into the arm of the couch to yell, Steve groaning as she clenched around him.

She felt Steve slip out of her and she gave a little groan, missing him, before she realized they were swapping, Bucky's whisper like a secret he only wanted her to hear:

“Don’t wanna finish in your mouth, sweetheart.”

She hummed her approval, the couch dipping, bodies brushing one another as Bucky slotted into place, Darcy’s back arching as he filled her with ease. His pace was faster, Darcy’s hands scrambling for purchase before she wrapped them around Steve’s cock, blindly following her nose to almost choke herself on him – coughing a little as Steve rubbed soothingly on her back.

He was whispering to her now, Darcy’s stomach flipping.

“He’s close, you know the look he gets on his face...”

“Then it’s your turn again?” Darcy managed to slur, pulling off of him, their eyes meeting.

Steve grinned at her, bit his lip when she went back in for more.

She couldn’t keep quiet, and soon Bucky was too distracting for her to keep her pace, her hands twisting and stroking Steve, a keening sound rising up from deep inside her. All she could hear was Bucky’s panting and the sound of his body smacking into hers. It was enough to sting, Darcy’s body beginning to twist against it, the edges of her vision darkening.

Without warning, Bucky cupped her mound, rubbing her clit with his middle finger, hitting the same spot with sharp thrusts, and Darcy shook her head, it was too much…

She pleaded and wept, a marker that it was near the end, she’d need to stop. Bucky came with a grunt, pushing her deeper into the couch, and she clung to Steve’s cock, and she loved it.

Bucky gave a sigh, slipping out of her, wiping his sweaty face with a shaking hand. Steve peppered her face with kisses, taking hold of her shoulders and pushing her back.

She was vaguely aware of the couch dipping once more, Bucky crouching to the floor, kissing her knuckles when he caught her hand in his. She felt lips brush her shoulder as Steve propped her back up on her fours, turning her chin to kiss her properly, hungrier than before.

She gave a little cry when he pushed inside her, his own gasp into her open mouth, his eyes flying shut. He began to build her back up, a slow grinding at first, everything slippery. It was hard to know where she ended and Steve began, her slick and Bucky’s making the air smell thick of sex, and she knew Steve loved it, being where Bucky had been only moments ago.

It was only a short reprieve before he made it clear he meant to wreck her, too, hips hitting her ass as the pleasure curled deep inside, and she was laughing deliriously.

It turned heavenly when Steve’s fingers were in her mouth, his cock dragging, his other hand on her clit. He fucked her until she tried to curl in on herself, her legs still forced open. He flattened her to the couch, her ass in the air as he trapped his fingers on her swollen clit, Darcy’s yell breaking through the panting and smacking of bodies.

Her eyes swung to see Bucky staring back at her and she came, hearing Steve groan and buck into her until he was wrung out, losing rhythm and slumping against her.

After moments like these with these two, Darcy was reminded of the time she had a concussion as a teenager. She half-expected cartoon birds to be circling her head.

She must have said that out loud because she heard two sets of chuckles, then lips on her face and mouth, everything blissfully messy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	23. Darcy/Andy Barber - Stripping & Piercings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a different idea in my head but I couldn't shake Andy Barber. To be clear, I haven't seen Defending Jacob, nor have I read the book. I'm basing the characterization off of the summaries/endings I've read online for both the show and the book.
> 
> This is a little angsty but there aren't specific spoilers, Andy's just a divorced mess all around.

_So don't you stop_  
_Being a man_  
_Just take a little look_  
_From outside when you can_  
_Sow a little tenderness_  
**\- "Glory Box" by Portishead**

A lawyer walks into a strip joint. It’s the beginning of a joke, he’s pretty sure. He went there because he couldn’t sleep, and he hadn’t tried this method.

He’d never liked these kinds of places. He didn’t like the men there, they distracted him from the beautiful twisting bodies of the girls wearing varying tight little outfits that left little to the imagination. He had a kind of respect for the occupation – the girls there knew what they were doing and knew how to service accordingly. They were go-getters, smart enough to smell a sale when there was one around. They sensed what men wanted to see and hear.

He tried and failed to not think of Laurie. Every woman stood next to his ex-wife in his head. That wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, no matter what he did. He’d tried dating a little but lost his nerve, if he didn’t manage to lose his interest. Work wasn’t enough to keep his mind occupied, his body still responded to them even when he was at the supermarket with his cart. He’d be standing alone in a long aisle trying to decide whether he got one type of toilet cleaner or another and he’d see a bare calf muscle and his eyes would follow it, eyes flicking up to their rear before he told himself to stop.

The club he decided on was a higher end one than others he’d been to during bachelor parties over the years. There were finance guys here, along with the rich frat guys and trust fund yuppies. The crowd was pretty chipper for a Wednesday night.

He hung around toward the back of the main floor, slipping into a table as he glanced around, the music pumping. People were yelling over one another to speak clearly enough. He could see a group of guys clearly celebrating one of them getting married – Andy could see the guy was blushing even under the poor lighting of the club, being shoved by his friends into the arms of a blonde girl wearing a silver spacesuit looking romper and matching boots. She was laughing with them, taking him by the arm for a private dance in a VIP room, the party hooting after them as they left.

Andy wasn’t going to pass judgment on anyone there, except the creepier guys that were yelling at the girls that walked past them.

“What’d Daddy do to you, baby?” he heard, shaking his head a little as he put his beer bottle to his lips. “You can tell me!”

Andy paused a little too long, saw himself from the outside, drinking alone with a bunch of yelling men to his left and right. His eyes swivelled toward the stage as the announcer declared:

“Everyone welcome to the stage Darcy!”

It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so sad. Andy felt himself smirk a little, shaking his head as he tilted his bottle back again, wondering how long he’d draw this out before retreating back into the night. He could start staying overnight at the office again. Buy a little toothbrush to keep in his desk, maybe bother to keep a change of clothes there. Should he buy a sleeping bag?

His thoughts were disrupted by the sudden change of the song to something familiar, a sultry tune that began to seep from the speakers above.

The girl that appeared was shorter than Andy expected, since the last girl up there was a blonde statue that stood en pointe throughout her little show – one guy had called her ‘Twinkle Tits’ instead of ‘Toes’. This girl was brunette with glowing white skin under the lights. Her costume looked like it was made up entirely of pearls, every string hugging her wide hips as she took hold of the pole and did a little spin.

Her body seemed to speak for itself, it didn’t seem to bother her at all that the men had begun to cheer as she spun around. For someone as compact as her, she seemed to have the experience and strength to grip the pole and run up and down it with ease.

She spun deliberately out of time with the song, her long brown hair over one shoulder… Andy could see she was a perfect hourglass. Her tits were bigger than his two hands, almost spilling out of her bikini top.

_I’m tired of playing_

_Playing with this bow and arrow_

_Gonna give my heart away_

_Leave it to the other girls to play_

As Darcy was on her feet once more, her heels propping her calves up, making her muscles pop as she did little spins, there was cash flying around. She smiled, but it seemed to be hers alone. She approached the edge of the stage, grabbing hold of one patron that stepped forward to tuck some cash into her thong above her hip bone. She tipped his head back, as if to shove him back away, playing a game. She did it again to one of the bachelor party guys whose hand slipped up her thigh.

Andy thought about being closer, launching himself at her just to see what she’d do. He’d already decided this wasn’t the place for him. He hadn’t been to any place like this since before Jacob was born. How much older was this girl than his son, anyway?

He turned his head away, standing up from his seat to head back to the bar. He leaned against it, hearing the cheers as the song played through. It changed to another as the bartender passed him his next beer, the announcer declaring it was Roxanne’s turn to show her stuff.

He stayed there a while, not looking at the stage. He felt a hand on his arm and he turned his head toward the source, seeing a tall girl with box braids grinning at him.

“Hey, honey. You want a dance?”

He felt bad enough to press a couple twenties into her hand, shaking his head no. He knew it wasn’t a lot, but he didn’t want to see her flick the switch back in place to cover her disappointment. It happened all too often, and he didn’t think a lot of men here paid attention to that particular female characteristic.

He should go. He finished his beer, turning his attention finally back to the stage. The girl up there now looked ethereal under the light, grinding on the floor with her thick thighs apart, her chest stuck out as her back bowed…

Yeah, Andy needed to get out of there. He was _very_ divorced right now.

He bumped into someone in his haste, spinning around to see short Darcy with her bikini, thong, and pleaser heels covered in fake pearls. She looked surprised and almost stumbled in her clear plastic platforms, her hand out to steady herself.

“Sorry,” he said, and she blinked up at him.

She had a gap between her front teeth he hadn’t seen from way back where he sat earlier during her performance. The stage was playing _Gimme More_ and Darcy lit up at him.

She hadn’t let go of his arm and leaned closer to him.

“We’re getting a room.”

“What?”

She turned her heel and his eyes dropped to her ass automatically, and he moved forward, following after her. She turned her head slightly to look over her shoulder at him, and Andy felt his brows lift ever so slightly. She seemed fearless.

He followed her all the way down a corridor, the sounds of the club beginning to fade to a steady thrum of bass. All he could hear now was their footsteps as they reached a bouncer in front of another doorway, his beefy arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey, Joe,” she murmured, and he gave Andy a quick glance, nodding at the card reader he produced from his back pocket.

Andy’s card processed and Darcy flashed him a little smile, offering him her hand finally.

“C’mon.”

Her hand was soft. She led him around a corner, a bead curtain blocking a doorway. Darcy’s hand left him to lift up and part the curtain, slipping inside as he stared after her.

He’d never got a private dance before. He didn’t ever have something like this before, something so blatantly sexual with a stranger with no romance to it. He hadn’t even been like this back in high school when he was fumbling with a girl at some party – he’d had long lasting crushes. Even the first time he ever jerked off he imagined a friend’s older sister, someone he knew pretty well compared to Darcy.

He found his feet, finally following her through, seeing a couch and a table in front of it large enough for her to stand on. He glanced around, seeing a black circle in the ceiling, a sign underneath.

**_SMILE YOU’RE ON CAMERA_ **

There was a softer song playing through the speakers above their heads, filling the gaps, but Andy wasn’t paying attention to the lyrics anymore.

Something else he hadn’t noticed so well under the stage lights – Darcy had a belly button piercing. It wasn’t as ostentatious as the rest of her outfit. The little bar was silver and nondescript. She otherwise had no marks on her skin, not even a mole. She had a little cellulite on the back of her thighs, her back to him as he decided to sit on the couch, hands on his knees.

She was putting a little purse down on the floor, tossing it aside, and she spun on the spot, hands on her hips.

“How much did that just cost me?” he asked, and her lip curled into a smirk, her head tilting.

All of her hair was over one shoulder, the shell of her ear exposed as she leaned over him a little.

“You mean with your credit card?” she murmured, and he nodded. “About two-hundred.”

“Two hundred for you to walk me down to this room?”

He was trying to sound pissed off but he was close to laughing like she was, her teeth beginning to show. He could smell her this close. There was a hint of sweat to her, under the scent of baby powder of whatever spray she’d put to cover the paw prints and dollar bills against her skin.

She licked her lips. “You swiped your card, not me.”

She had him there. He could have turned his heel and left some time ago. He’d chosen to follow her, though it felt like she’d chosen him. She took what she wanted, he had to admire that about her, even if the trick was a dirty one. 

“Right,” he said, his knee giving a little swing. “So…”

His words fell away as Darcy took hold of her bra strap, pulling off one shoulder, her other following. His eyes snapped to her eyes because she started talking, feeling his face flush. He was aware of her tits being out, but he refused to let himself stare for a whole second.

“You having a good night?” she asked.

“It got better,” he said, which seemed to be a good answer, because she gave a little laugh.

“Yeah?”

“I was about to leave, and then you abducted me,” he added, and she grinned wider.

She was adorable, her arms lifting as she did a little spin on the spot, her bikini top falling to the floor. Her areolas were paler than he’d seen on other women. She seemed pale all over. His mind wandered elsewhere, thinking about other hidden pink parts of her. He could ask her to show if he wanted, but he didn’t, he kept watching her face for the most part.

He tried to adjust himself in his pants as subtly as possible, Darcy’s eyes following the movement.

“Occupational hazard,” she said.

She was clever, a cheeky little thing, he wondered if he could make her laugh for real. He leaned forward a little, Darcy’s arms dropping, her hands on his shoulders.

“I didn’t think you were allowed to touch.”

“I am, you’re not,” she murmured, pushing him back a little so he was deeper into the couch, the back of his head brushing the wall.

Her eyes fell to his mouth. Her eyes were blue, he noted. Blue and drinking him in as she straddled his lap. Andy drew in a deep breath, eyes glued to hers.

“What about that guy during your number? He was all over you –”

“If I met the guy in the street, I’d taze his balls,” Darcy retorted, and Andy stared at her, his lips parting. “I pick my battles.”

“Really?”

She’d begun to grind in his lap, moving to the music.

“So I can’t touch you?” he said. “But –”

“I’m touching you all I want,” she said, moving back a little and rolling her hips.

Andy could remember a time when he used to fuck Laurie like this, before. He’d pull her onto him, everything wet and tight, her fingers like claws in his back.

Something must have shown on his face because Darcy’s eyes changed, her back arching.

“So you were about to leave?” she asked.

He nodded. Then she stood up again to sit back down, her back to him, leaning back so she brushed his chest, taking hold of his hands to place them on her hips.

“Yeah…”

He was getting hard, it was difficult not to. It was the most physical affection he’d got in months. His body didn’t seem to know it was fake and therefore empty. She stood up again, and he thought about her bending over in her thong…

“Is your real name Darcy?” he blurted, because she wasn’t looking at him now, arms stretching.

“Yes,” she threw over her shoulder. “What’s yours?”

“Andy,” he replied, and she gave a little smile to herself.

Her thumbs were hooked in the edges of her thong, and she turned back to face him, Andy’s face getting warmer again, knowing she intended to strip completely. His eyes fell to her feet, seeing they were a little pinker than the rest of her body.

“When do you finish work?”

“When we close around four,” she replied.

Her demeanour seemed to change then, a new face over her last one. She’d probably dealt with a lot of customers asking her the same question. Andy wondered how many had tried following her away from the club.

It was only a little after midnight last time he checked. He shook his head, her hands going still.

“You should take off your shoes, since you’re on your feet all night.”

He wanted to add something about it not being a foot fetish thing but she didn’t seem to mind either way, another smirk forming. She knelt, unbuckling one shoe and then the other.

She kicked the platforms aside, slumping a little. Her hands went back to her hips.

“Looking out for me?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He was terrible at this. He wanted to take care of her, he wanted to make this a little easier. He should give her what was left in his wallet and leave.

“Force of habit,” he murmured, ducking his gaze for the first time. “Dad mode.”

He was making the conversation change course to somewhere dangerous. He ran the risk of crying and she needed to keep him in high spirits so she’d get a decent tip. His hand went to his back pocket and he took out his wallet, opening it.

“I’m not about to show you photos, don’t worry,” he said, attempting to break some of the tension, putting a few bills between his middle and forefinger to hand her.

She took them, placing them on top of her purse, crouching.

Curled up like that, he could almost picture her back in his bedroom at home. His eyes followed the curves of her thigh to her hip, all the way up to her bare chest. He stared at her clavicle, imagining brushing her long hair from it, kissing her there.

She stood back up, hands finding his shoulders.

“Sit back, okay?”

He nodded, feeling something tighten in his chest as she stood back, gathering her hair and turning to flash a shoulder, smiling at him, letting everything fall down again. The song was some type of R’n’B Andy didn’t know, but she seemed to enjoy herself. She was convincing him enough that she wasn’t in Hell with him right now.

“You want another drink?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“I don’t wanna get drunk,” he breathed.

Her eyes seemed to sparkle at that and she grinned. Her waist was so damn tiny he’d probably be able to wrap his hands almost completely around it and touch fingers.

Her hands were sliding back down her sides to catch at the sides of her thong, and Andy felt his stomach flip with the anticipation, her thumbs tugging it all down…

It was probably faster than how his eyes perceived it, her thong falling to the floor. She stepped out, kicking the tiny bit of fabric aside. Andy’s eyes swung up to the little patch of hair at the top of her pussy. She did a little spin and dropped to her knees, thighs wide enough apart for his breath to catch.

“Jesus.”

He’d be embarrassed that he gasped out loud if she hadn’t grinned at him.

“You glad you didn’t go home just yet, Andy?” she asked, and his eyes snapped to hers, nodding his head. “You can’t touch, though…”

His hand had reached for her and he hadn’t realized and he snatched it back, rubbing his sweaty palms over his thighs.

“Sorry. Sorry,” he said, eyes averting.

“It’s okay, I don’t want you thrown out is all,” she said.

He noted how she didn’t say she didn’t want him to touch her, and he could see a hint of pink on her pale face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “Why…?”

“Why am I here?” she said, and he nodded, feeling like an idiot. “Bills. Internships don’t pay for law school.”

“Don’t I know it,” Andy heard himself say.

He cringed inwardly, goddamn fucking geek that he was.

“So you stripped, too?” she said, and he laughed out loud. “Chippendales?”

Andy passed a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t mean ugly girls would work here. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Andy, relax,” she said, putting up a hand. “You good? I feel like we’re at prom.”

He laughed again. She drew her knees in and he could still see her pussy from behind, between her closed thighs as she twisted around to lie on her side. She’d stopped dancing some time ago and he hadn’t noticed.

“My prom wasn’t like this,” he said out loud, and she gave a little laugh.

“Mine, neither…”

Her fingers trailed down her bare leg and she drew in a breath.

“You sure you don’t want that drink?”

He shook his head. He bit his lip, letting his eyes wander around the little room. The walls were velvet, he noticed. He could hear the song on the mainstage change to something high tempo and Darcy sat up once more.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, her voice softer. “What do you have to be sorry about?”

He let his eyes meet hers, seeing her loom over him once more. She looked younger, but her face was kind like a woman’s could be. There was a quiet strength to her, plus all the confidence with her body. This woman was incredible to him, and not because his dick was starting to ache.

“Andy, what did you ever do that was so wrong?” she asked, and he stared at her then, not daring to look away.

“I should go,” he said, before he thought of something more foolish to say. He swallowed, rubbing his hands on his plants.

If he left now, he could get a few hours’ sleep before dragging himself back to the office. He thought about getting that sleeping bag, avoiding the outside world for a while. He didn’t know exactly what he’d expected – maybe that if he was in this seedier environment he’d respond to it in kind, curl up after and not feel so guilty. A girl would get paid, and maybe he’d sleep…

“Andy,” Darcy prompted, and he glanced her way, seeing she’d tugged on her bottoms and was retrieving her bikini top.

His eyes fell to her belly button.

“How long you had that?”

She seemed surprised by the question, chuckling. Her tits were more than double the size of her tiny hands. Her nails were bare and short. Andy couldn’t explain why he found that the most endearing thing about her.

“About six years,” she murmured. “Freshman in college, I got it on a dare.”

“You… do dares a lot?” Andy asked.

“Sure,” she replied.

She began to tie her bikini top in place, standing significantly shorter than him as he stood up. He took out his wallet again, examining the notes. A couple hundred there, plus the card… he tried to not think of numbers. It was easy to be distracted when Darcy looked him in the eye again, her brow lifting.

“You should take a picture, it lasts longer.”

He hadn’t heard that phrase in God knows how long. It sounded like something Laurie would say way early on, a teasing lilt. When her hand settled on her hip, he stared back at her, waiting.

“Well?”

“You’re daring me?” he threw back, and she grinned, showing that gap in her teeth.

He took out his phone, unlocking it. He felt bolder, leaning back to get an angle that showed her stomach head-on. When he shoved his phone away, he gave her the rest of his cash, plus some Starbucks card that had been gathering dust. She snorted, holding it up between her thumb and forefinger.

“I’ll get a coffee on my way home.”

Thinking about her dragging those weary feet down the street at dawn made the guilt rise up in Andy. He’d been pushing it down for a while, but he avoided her gaze now, giving the VIP room one last glance. He moved toward the bead curtain.

“Andy,” she said, and he paused, wondering what her intention was.

Her face was softer, almost sad. She seemed out-of-character, vulnerable, and not because he’d seen her naked.

“Take care, okay?” she said, and he felt himself nod, automatic.

“Yeah.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, promise,” he said, and it hurt a little, looking at her.

He left the club, the night air sharp, cauterizing. He drew a deep breath, trying to think of where to get a cab.

He got to the office and shut the door behind him, letting his shoulders slump further as he put his face in his hands, sitting on the edge of his desk. It was after one AM now, and the hours ahead seemed to stretch like a horizon he’d never reach. So much time to feel and be alone. At least it was better than going back to his empty apartment, that shit seemed ten times more depressing than a law office. At least he was still in the city here.

He thought of Darcy buckling those platform shoes back on and trudging her way back to the foyer to find some other guy to dance for.

His hand went to his pocket, taking out his phone. His camera roll had nothing important to him. He’d erased all of Jacob and Laurie months ago. There were some pictures of his apartment before he decided to sign for it, some screenshots of bills for his accountant. Darcy’s belly was like an anomaly, Andy’s libido kicking into gear without the barrier of his own earlier embarrassment.

It was a sexy tummy. Some people would complain that it wasn’t flat enough, but the little paunch to it was charming, and it was tiny anyway. She didn’t need to tone – it was perfect, so soft-looking he longed to reach out to touch, to glide his fingers over it, brush over that little metal bar.

His hand was unbuckling his belt in seconds and he was pulling himself out of his pants as he thought of her scent, earthy and familiar. He stroked himself hard and fast, bordering on a painful sort of roughness he’d grown accustomed to in recent months. He thought of her smile, the way she’d poached him from the bar.

Her heart-shaped ass, the way everything jiggled when she moved. God, her tits –

“Fuck,” he whispered, and he knew he was close.

_Occupational hazard._

_I’m touching you all I want._

_Looking out for me?_

He’d fuck her hard. He’d start off gentle and take his time licking her all over, make her grab at his hair and rub her cunt in his face. He’d love to make her blush all over as he tongued at her.

He’d fuck her hard and he’d come on her stomach, fall asleep next to her. Wake up and do it again, bend her over at the waist and make her cry from feeling so good.

He felt like an animal pawing at himself, but he got lost in the fantasy, picturing her spread out just for him, no club lights, no music except the sounds of the city around them.

He’d fuck her hard –

He came, grunting, squeezing his eyes shut, into his fist. He panted and leaned back, eyes swivelling around to find a Kleenex. With the last of his strength, he pushed off the desk to move around and toss aside the tissue and slump into his chair, closing his eyes.

He must have fallen asleep, because he was blinking back the office sometime later, his mouth feeling stale, his eyes sore as he rubbed them. He picked up his phone, seeing he’d kept the camera roll open on Darcy’s picture instead of closing the app, the clock in the corner of the screen showing it was after 4AM.

He told himself to not overthink it, but he always did. When people said he should be in the moment, it was hard for him to not think about every bad thing that could possibly happen _in the moment_. He left the office just the same, stomach twisting with nerves.

The trip back was faster than when he first went there a few hours ago. He could see the streets were pretty empty. The cab driver was more than happy to take him, probably about to finish up his own night. Andy kept rubbing his eyes, feeling oddly awake.

He went to the exit out the back of the club, leaning against a wall as he checked his phone again. He might have missed her, since it was closer to 5, but he saw a couple girls slip out, chatting to one another. A security guard gave him a quick glance when he walked out, but seemed to lose interest in him. Andy figured since he was off-duty he didn’t feel compelled to worry too much about any possible threat he could be.

He stared after the guy, frowning a little to himself, when he heard a familiar voice.

“Hey.”

His eyes snapped to meet Darcy, seeing her standing several feet away, her hands in her windbreaker pockets. She wore a maroon beanie and a pair of glasses, a drastically different image to what he saw last night.

The smile was the same.

“Hey,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	24. Darcy/Steve - Massage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **typhoidmeri said:** Steve/Darcy: a vague the Client List au, where Steve is the sex worker and Darcy has been gifted a massage with a happy ending.
> 
> I haven't seen The Client List but I think I got the general idea from the .gifs Meri sent me. This was going to be far shorter but I couldn't resist after a few weeks of this draft sitting and waiting to be shared.

_Listen to the girl_   
_As she takes on half the world_   
_Moving up and so alive_   
_In her honey dripping beehive_   
**\- "Just Like Honey" by The Jesus And Mary Chain**

Darcy had only been to a spa once before and it was as a teenager when her dad was marrying her stepmother. At the time, Darcy perceived it as anything but relaxing. The ambiance was creepy, the music felt ominous... standing in this spa on her birthday, appointment card in hand, she was trying to not ruin it deliberately. It didn’t help that already things hadn’t gone to plan.

“I’m sorry, but Thor had to take the afternoon off,” the girl at the front desk told her. “We left a message on your cell, or was that an incorrect number?”

Darcy had ignored that call, like she ignored al phone calls. She screened every one of them because she hated talking on the phone, and she was quite sure anyone would gather that from the Voicemail message she had for the last five years. Her voice was flat but she at least stated her full name, so there was no way if the girl had called her that there’d be any confusion.

“Um. No,” Darcy mumbled, looking away at the little bamboo plant sitting on the desk. “I can come back another day.”

“Thor’s next opening isn’t for another two weeks,” the receptionist said, and Darcy nodded. “We have other masseurs available, and since you came all this way…”

Darcy had dashed in out of breath, almost running late. It wasn’t like her, but she’d been anxious about today. Jane had promised her Thor’s magic hands could cure anything, and Darcy had been grumpy and tense lately.

Darcy’s phone began to ring and she took it out, shooting the receptionist an apologetic look. The caller ID said Jane and she picked up, staring at the bamboo plant again.

“So, did you get there?”

“Thor’s not here,” Darcy said. “I think I’ll head home. Maybe order pizza.”

“Or, you could stay and then order pizza later,” Jane retorted. “Is someone else available?”

“I don’t know anyone else here, Jane, that was the _point_.”

Darcy wasn’t into the idea of any stranger touching her, period. She knew Thor a little, they’d hung out plenty of times but it was with Jane present usually. Darcy had only agreed to this massage knowing that Thor would be the one to do it. She tried to not openly huff, since it was her birthday and she was meant to be enjoying herself.

“Thor said his buddy Steve is even better than him.”

“Steve?” Darcy repeated. “Who the hell is Steve?”

“Steve’s available,” the receptionist cut in, and Darcy glanced her way, seeing her wide smile hadn’t left her face. “If you were interested in staying.”

“I –”

“Say yes,” Jane said. “If Thor says he’s good –”

Darcy felt her face flush. What Jane hadn’t shared with anyone except Darcy was that she’d met Thor _here_ , in the massage rooms in Manhattan. Two doors down was a gentleman’s club.

Jane had walked into work one morning with the dumbest grin on her face Darcy had ever seen. She only got like that when science or men were involved. When Darcy asked why she was so happy, Jane had told her all about Thor and his magic hands.

Jane was pretty spontaneous while Darcy was the opposite. She was all for sexual expression, just not her own. Whenever she thought about sex, it felt like it was something she’d never enjoy.

Jane had heard one too many stories about Darcy’s dates that never spun into something more. If they even counted as dates.

Darcy didn’t want to think about her lack of experience right now, which she was certain was showing by how she’d been pink-cheeked the entire time she’d stood in the foyer.

“Fine, I'll see Steve,” she snapped, losing patience with both of them. "Whatever."

She hung up on Jane, turning back to the receptionist, who’d stood up from her chair.

“I’ll get you to come through…”

Darcy followed her down a corridor, her eyes on her own feet, listening out for any moans or groans she could hear. She could only make out the music coming through the speaker above her head, and once she was led into an empty bathroom, there was complete silence before the receptionist began to speak again.

“Dress to your level of comfort. Steve will meet you through the door here,” she murmured, gesturing to the door shut on the opposite side of the bathroom. “He’ll discuss the procedure with you, the specifics. Is there anything else I can get you?”

 _A bullet to my head?_ Darcy wanted to ask, but she shook her head, averting her gaze.

Once she was left alone, she sighed, closing her eyes. In the mirror she looked tense, like she could cry at any moment. She swallowed hard, putting her bag on the bathroom counter.

Dress to her level of comfort? What if that meant putting on more clothes? She pictured herself back in her apartment with her feet up on the coffee table as she watched TV, a blanket draped over her sweatpants, wearing her slouchy hoodie riddled with coffee stains and cat hairs…

“Fuck my life,” she whispered, huffing a little.

She tugged off her shirt, then her pants. She grabbed the bathrobe on the back of the door and pulled it on, wrapping herself in it. It was crazy soft, and she dragged her hand down the front a few times, trying to soothe herself.

She took a deep breath and yanked the other door open, stepping into the next room, freezing when she saw the back of a man standing by the massage table.

The dude was huge, like Thor. Broad shoulders with narrow hips, arms almost as large as Darcy’s thighs. He turned around at the sound of her abruptly jerking the door open and his brows lifted ever so slightly.

“Hello,” she heard him murmur. “I’m Steve.”

“Uh, hey,” she blurted in return. “Darcy.”

“Nice to meet you.”

She echoed his words, stumbling over them. Her hands were tight on the cord of her bathrobe. She shuffled a little toward the center of the room, feeling her stomach flip.

“I was trying to decide on which oil to use,” he murmured, and Darcy’s eyes fell to the two bottles he had placed on the massage table, over the sheet. “Lavender or –”

“Lavender’s meant to be the sleepy one, right?” Darcy interjected, and he nodded, lips curling. “I need whatever you have to get me to stop… being so…”

“Tense?” he said, and she nodded.

She felt herself blush again. “I’m… a mess.”

“I know you meant to see Thor,” Steve said, and she nodded again. “If you’re not comfortable with me…”

Jesus, that was an understatement. Darcy had never been more attracted to someone in her life, at least in person. She got like this only when she saw Henry Cavill or young Marlon Brando in _A Streetcar Named Desire_. She could feel heat pooling in her guts, sweat threatening to break out all over her. She didn’t like the idea that he could see her staring back at him.

“Thor’s girlfriend is my best friend,” Darcy said, avoiding the out he gave her. “I’m… I’m not great with strangers.”

Steve blinked a couple times, nodding. “Fair enough. Don’t force yourself to do this because your friend told you to.”

Darcy bit her lip, tightening her cord a little more.

“I’m… willing to try. It’s my birthday.”

“Oh, Happy Birthday,” he said, breaking into a smile, teeth showing.

It was almost too much and Darcy ducked her gaze. He turned his attention back to the oils.

“I’m gonna go with lavender. If you want, you can lie down and we’ll get started.”

He slipped out of the room when Darcy hummed in acknowledgment. Left alone once more, the nerves kicked in tenfold. Darcy knew she was excited. Being touched at all by someone as handsome as him would be a treat. Unless her brain decided to ruin it.

She took off her robe, placing it on an armchair. The plush carpet felt nice on her bare feet. Her apartment only had the cheap stuff in her bedroom, the rest of her place was made up of hardwood floors and linoleum. She hoisted herself onto the table, tugged the sheet around her.

“Ready?” she called out, unsure.

She had the sheet covering her chest, her fingers knitted together as she waited. Steve reappeared, giving her a little half-smile.

“We’ll start on your back, first,” he said.

Darcy quickly turned over onto her stomach, and she felt Steve’s hand touch her shoulder.

“It’s alright, there’s no wrong way for you to do this,” he said.

“Thanks, I’m…”

She didn’t have to say it, she was clearly nervous. She let her sentence fall away, resting her head to the side. He moved around her, placing her hands to face upward. When he touched her calf muscle to gently push her legs a little further apart, Darcy swallowed.

He moved away, fiddling with the little speaker behind him next to a little sink. Soft jazz began to play and Darcy felt something in her chest loosen. It didn’t sound like make out music or anything particularly sleazy.

“You can close your eyes or not,” he murmured, turning back.

“I’m keeping tabs on you for now,” Darcy whispered, and he let out a soft chuckle.

“That’s fair.”

There was a beat, and he placed his hands on her back.

“Your friend told you about this place?”

“Yeah, she insisted I have this as a birthday present,” Darcy murmured, clearing her throat. “I’ve never paid for something like this before.”

“It sounds like your friend technically paid for it,” Steve countered, and Darcy felt herself smile.

“True.”

She drew in a breath when one of his hands slid up to move her hair out of the way of her shoulders, exposing her neck.

“It can be a standard massage, not everything has to be super special, Darcy,” he murmured.

His fingers were already making her tingle, soothing her neck with the barest of brushes.

“You saying that so I have lowered expectations?” Darcy said, unable to help herself.

He chuckled again. “I am trained as a massage therapist. The other stuff, I mean, if you’re not comfortable with me touching you anywhere intimate…”

Considering Darcy had come all this way, and she’d said yes to him already, and now he was making her melt with gentle little strokes to the back of her neck…

His thumb rubbed her earlobe and she let her eyes fall shut.

“Keep going.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

He worked her shoulders first. Darcy liked it best when his thumbs dug into her. When he asked her about pressure, she motioned an upward spike and he chuckled again, increasing. Darcy let out her first little groan of appreciation, feeling like a cat stretching in the sun.

“I’m gonna move this blanket down, okay?” he whispered, and Darcy nodded.

She blinked her eyes open, letting her gaze swivel to his hips, seeing the drawstring of his sweatpants. He smelt good, something underneath the oil he was using. She felt the air on her back as he adjusted the sheet further down, folding it above her butt.

“Your skin is very soft,” he murmured, and Darcy couldn’t suppress her shiver because his voice was right by her ear.

“Thanks…”

He probably said that to every client, even the ones with crocodile skin. His thumbs moved down her spine, fingers digging into her sides. Darcy bit her lip.

“Ticklish?”

“Nope,” Darcy said. “Surprisingly not… just…”

He didn’t tell her to relax, simply slowed to a stop, moving back up to her shoulders to dig in there some more. Darcy willed herself to breath deeper, choosing to be honest.

“I don’t have a lot of… I don’t really date,” she said. “And I’ve only had sex once.”

She closed her eyes as she said this, feeling the embarrassment despite this, picturing his handsome face furrowing, the pity that he’d have. It was a little pathetic, to most people when she told them.

“Technically twice,” she amended. “A while ago. A few years ago.”

His hands glided down her back again, over the clasp of her bra. His fingers catching made Darcy’s hands go to the garment, trying to pry it off.

“Can I get this off?” she said, feeling like her face was on fire.

He did it for her, the gesture making Darcy’s stomach flip, her insides warm. She held her breath as she leaned up a little to tug it off and he put it on the chair with her robe, after he folded it. He moved back toward her and it felt so much better, his bare hands rubbing over her whole back without the interruption of her clothing.

“If it’s scary, Darcy, we can stop,” he said, quietly. “I can stop right now.”

“No,” Darcy said, without hesitating. “I want… I want you to touch me but I…”

“You don’t know how,” Steve said, and she nodded. “That’s okay.”

“Will you know what to do?” she asked, before realizing she sounded so naïve it was laughable. She even groaned a little. “I’m such a…”

“No,” he said, rubbing his thumbs over the dimples at the base of her spine, and Darcy hid her face, wanting to rub her thighs together. “It’s okay.”

“I’m such a _virgin_ ,” she groaned, barely a whisper.

He kept at it until Darcy’s hips rolled. Only someone as attuned to her body as he was would be able to detect it.

“Can I keep going?” he asked, and she nodded. “Only if you’re comfortable, Darcy.”

“I’m… I’m too comfortable, right now,” she admitted.

“Deep breaths, sweetheart,” he whispered, and Darcy’s tummy somersaulted.

She was wet, she knew it without having to feel between her thighs. As his hands moved south, over her underwear, Darcy kept her face hidden in the table, waiting for her brain to check out completely. She anticipated wanting it to be over, not able to look Steve in the eye on her way out.

All he was doing was rubbing her butt over the fabric of her undies, his thumbs occasionally digging into the muscles in the middle of each cheek, but it was the most action Darcy had had in months.

“Can you – can you -?”

“I’m going slow,” Steve murmured, and Darcy nodded.

He did it for another couple of minutes before his fingers were hooking into the waistband of her underwear and pulling it down. Darcy willed herself to breathe, knowing her bare ass was in the air now.

“Okay?” he asked, and she nodded.

She bit back a moan when he kneaded her with his hands, doing the same movements as before without the barrier. Every few minutes his fingers would stray, feather-light as they teased the space in between, lower down where Darcy knew she was melting with excitement.

“Please…”

She couldn’t keep the moan inside her when his fingers began to rub the folds of her cunt, her lip between her teeth as her hips rolled. He pulled back suddenly to grab a rolled up towel, pushing it under Darcy’s hips for support.

Their eyes met for the first time in a while and Darcy swallowed thickly.

“Thanks.”

“You okay?” he asked, and she nodded. “I’m gonna keep going…”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding more. “Just… don’t get frustrated.”

“Never,” he said, and Darcy blinked at him. “Just lay down…”

She did as she was told, his hands slipping over her rear again, gently petting her, and Darcy’s hips circled again. His thumb rubbed over her entrance and she whimpered, his thick fingers gliding through her, her needy clit throbbing for attention.

“Can I, inside -?”

“Yes,” Darcy blurted.

He used both hands, one to roll and stroke her clit, the other to push one finger inside her, then a second. The sound was wet and obscene, but he was so gentle at first it could almost be innocent. His fingers curled inside her and Darcy let out a little breathless laugh.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching you,” he replied, and she rolled her hips again, trying to ride his hands. “How does it feel?”

“Pretty good…”

“Only pretty good?” he said, and Darcy thought about correcting herself. “Guess I’m not doing my job right.”

His hand began to move a little faster, Darcy’s body tightening of its own accord. She could feel the coil inside her winding up, her breath catching.

He persisted, Darcy’s body growing hotter, trying to twist and fight against what she was feeling, but she gave into it, her mind going blank over time. She could feel she was close, and she couldn’t keep the sounds inside her no matter how much she smothered her face.

She screwed her face up, her whole body shuddering as she came, squeezing his fingers as hard as she could. She panted, seeing spots as she blinked back the room.

His hands left her and she sighed, rolling onto her side to watch him go to the sink and fill a water glass, coming back to her side.

“Thanks,” she whispered, taking it from him.

She took a few gulps and handed it back. She was surprised that she wasn’t completely mortified. To her surprise, she saw a distinct outline of an erection in his sweatpants.

Instead of being creeped out, she felt… flattered. Excited, that he’d got caught up in it, too. She let herself fall onto her back, remembering her bare chest, but she lay there, staring up at him.

Darcy found herself reaching for him, her breathing returning to normal but her heart was still racing. Her hands landed on the waistband of his pants, fingers hooking inside, feeling the heat of his hard stomach against her knuckles.

He leaned over her, slowly placing his hands by her head, one of each side, his eyes drifting from her face down to her chest.

“Would you kiss me?” Darcy whispered, because she knew she wanted that most from him.

She hadn’t even wanted to kiss anyone for a long time, and it felt strange that he’d got her off with his hands before he’d even pressed his mouth to her, but Darcy didn’t mind getting the order mixed up when it felt like this…

He nodded, lowering his head so their noses brushed.

“You wanna come again?” he whispered, and Darcy nodded, lifting her head a little from the table to press her lips to his in a slow, chaste peck.

One of his hands cradled the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair, their mouths moving against each other again, Steve tilting his head to the side, his tongue nudging the seam of her lips.

Darcy parted her lips ever so slightly, heart in her throat as he licked into her mouth, everything deepening. They both sighed, Steve’s sound surprising Darcy as she kissed him back, eyes shutting as her hips rolled of their own accord.

Darcy’s hands didn’t settle, she kept placing them on parts of Steve’s chest and arms, before she finally decided to go for it, taking hold of his hip over the fabric of his pants.

Steve drew back with slow kisses, brushing a hand over Darcy’s face, eyes searching hers.

“You okay?” he whispered.

His voice was so warm, a comfort. She knew he’d take care of her if she asked, but he needed her consent, he needed her to tell him what she needed. Darcy’s words bubbled up, her cheeks burning. Everything came out breathy and rough.

“Can we have sex?”

He nodded, lips pulling into a slow smile.

“Whatever you want. We’ve got time…”

Right, the appointment. She’d only have so much time with him before she’d have to slip back out into the real world where she was overwhelmed by the opposite sex and nothing seemed to go right. Here, she could pretend. That was the idea, wasn’t it? That she was treated right? It was her birthday still, after all.

He moved back, pulling off his shirt with a fluent movement, revealing more muscles than Darcy had ever seen in-person in all her life. She sucked in a breath, wondering how he did that with ease, showed his body like it was nothing at all. His hands went to his waistband, eyes snapping to Darcy’s.

“Okay?”

She nodded dumbly, waiting. She was leaning on her elbows, watching as he pulled down his pants. It felt drawn out because she was trying to commit it to memory, the silence between them heavy as he stripped completely.

He was hard, Darcy hadn’t imagined that earlier. She hadn’t seen a man naked in a while, she didn’t think porn counted in that sense. Porn overwhelmed her too easily, anyway. She tended to click away and lose her nerve, and she only ever watched it to try to get over her hang-ups and it never worked, no matter how hard she tried.

She wanted Steve, though. She’d never felt more wanted, either, by the look he gave her when he grabbed a condom from a bowl under the table, holding the little foil square up, their eyes meeting once more.

“Yeah,” Darcy whispered, nodding. “Except –”

He paused, and Darcy knew she was shaking with nerves but she managed to sit up a little, beckoning him with a nod, and he stood by her again, his hand taking hold of her jaw.

Darcy looked down between them, swallowing, feeling Steve’s on her face as she gingerly wrapped her hand around his shaft. She gave him a slow stroke. She thought about how he’d stretch her, since he didn’t seem small in any sense.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she felt a little better.

“Okay?” he murmured.

Darcy nodded, and she lowered back to lie down, staring as he unwrapped the condom and slid it on. He put a hand on Darcy’s hip, thumb gliding over the widest part of her.

“Move this way a bit, sweetheart…”

Darcy obeyed, legs widening as he pulled her toward him, her knees drawn up, and soon he was standing between her legs, the crown of him rubbing between the wet folds of her cunt, Darcy’s breath hitching.

She kept nodding when Steve checked in, eyes meeting hers.

“Breathe, Darcy,” he said, and she nodded, keeping her eyes glued to his, forcing herself to be present.

He pushed in, a soft sound ebbing from Darcy’s mouth, a little whimper. He paused but she nodded.

“Keep going…”

He obliged, sliding home, his hips settling against her ass, his fingers gripping the back of one of her knees, his other hand wrapped around her hip.

“Keep still for a second,” Darcy breathed, trying to think, trying to adjust to how he’d split her open.

There was already a greediness deep inside her core, something she didn’t know she could have, clenching around him, pleasure building already. Steve blinked down at her, feeling her tight around him most likely, staying still inside her.

It wouldn’t take much. Jesus, she couldn’t picture herself touched by a stranger less than an hour ago, and now she was getting off with this guy’s big dick buried in her to the hilt, and he wasn’t even fucking her…

She began to whimper when Steve moved his thumb south to her clit, rubbing it as Darcy’s hips began to arch to rock against the grain.

“Holy shit, please, please, please…”

She came, lifting off the table, shuddering, the warm wave washing over her. She couldn’t believe how good he felt, and then he was leaning down, kissing her hard.

His hips finally began to shift, slow and hard, Darcy’s head falling back as their lips broke apart with a smack, a smile now on her face.

“You’re beautiful,” she heard him whisper, barely audible. Maybe he didn’t mean to say it out loud, by the look on his face, pupils blown, hips picking up speed.

She clung to him, his face hovering above hers, and they were both smiling now, Darcy’s tummy flipping.

“I can’t look at you, you’re too handsome,” she whispered back. She put a hand over his face and he laughed, pressing a kiss to her palm.

He captured her in another searing kiss, and it was all him, he was dictating it all, his thrusts making Darcy cry out with each pass, his thumb pressing back to her clit.

Tears were stinging her eyes and she knew she was too wrung out, and she shook her head, whimpering blending with breathless giggles. She was a mess, her body didn’t know what emotion was to be felt, how much was too much. Her chin quivered.

“Are you…? Are you gonna finish?” she whispered.

“I don’t have to,” he whispered back.

Darcy realized that it was probably the outcome he expected, but she shook her head.

“No, I want – can you? I… I want you to,” she whispered. “What can I do?”

She pressed a kiss to his lips and Steve deepened it immediately, one hand in her hair. He cuddled her closer, lips trailing down her neck, then her chest.

Darcy gasped as he wrapped his lips around her nipple, sucking as he fucked her in shallow thrusts, slowing down.

He was trying not to come.

“Steve…”

Her hands were in his hair, tugging him a little, and she was melting again, tightening around him. Steve didn’t manage to suppress his groan, letting go of her with a soft pop, his thrusts going harder, Darcy’s fingers dragging down his back as her eyes widened.

He turned erratic as Darcy began to beg and beg, his expert touch on her clit again, bringing her off for the final time. She lost vision, vaguely aware of him grunting and shoving into her as far as he could, hips stalling…

“Fuck,” he whispered, and Darcy blinked up at him, seeing he was blissed out, sweaty-faced and pink.

-

For the next day, Darcy tried and failed to not think of Steve almost constantly.

She knew she had a real spring in her step and she hoped it would stay, she hoped her brain wouldn’t try to ruin a perfect birthday. She felt reality come crawling back when Jane ducked by her desk, eyes wide.

“What did you do to Steve?” Jane said, and Darcy frowned.

Darcy had hoped she’d never talk about her present at length. She didn’t want to give Jane all the dirty details, certainly not anything about how awkward and frigid she’d been at first.

“What did _I_ do? What do you mean?” she hissed. “He was the sex worker.”

Jane glanced around at the other interns, her voice dropping to a whisper. She burst into a conspiratorial grin.

“He asked Thor for your phone number.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please go read [Happy Ending](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12210681/chapters/27731760) by Em_Jaye, since she's already written Shieldshock with a Massage AU. 
> 
> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	25. Darcy/Steve - Bondage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **slytherinstarkravingmad said:** Any chance you would do a bondage tickling story? ...I’m in that community and it kinda gets joked out because tickling but it’s actually kinda awesome. All the fun bondage plus laughter and yeah.
> 
>  **idontgettechnology:** That's a really nice scarf. - I was hoping you'd use it to tie me to the headboard.
> 
> Bless you both for your smutty ideas.

_I need a man who makes me alright_  
_Just tell me when it's alright_  
_Tell me something that'll change me_  
_I'm gonna love you with my hands tied_  
**\- Teeth by Lady GaGa**

She had to crane her neck to get the kiss Steve offered her. He hovered just out of reach, the restraints on her wrists giving a burn sweet enough to make her hiss. If you didn’t get it, you didn’t get it – being tied up felt good to Darcy and few people knew that about her.

Steve was the one who reaped the benefits those days.

-

The first time it came up, they weren’t even dating. She was feeling cheeky. A little dumb and a little daring. It was the first time he’d seen her wearing her new fall fashion, spending two whole dollars at Good Will for the yarn to knit her maroon scarf. It took her many hours in between data entry sprints with Jane in the labs, but she’d finished it, and she was proud of herself.

“That’s a really nice scarf.”

He’d said it with his coffee mug to his lips, watching Darcy move around the kitchen to fill her own. She said without glancing up:

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d use it to tie me to my headboard.”

She hoped he’d choke or splutter on his coffee, but instead he went very still and stared down at her, a little quiet smile forming.

“Interesting.”

Darcy was promptly interrupted by Jane, who decided to rush in to find her, grabbing her by the arm. Darcy, whose eyes were rolling, met Steve’s gaze as she was escorted out.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he called, lifting his mug.

Not much happened for a couple days after that. She suspected Steve ghosted her, but it turned out he had a mission, and Darcy had a stack of papers to sift through. They were both busy.

He tugged her into the pantry to make out with her when he next saw her, backing her into the shelves as she giggled breathlessly.

“Manhandling me,” Darcy pretended to grump, but she couldn’t keep the smile from her face, and neither could Steve.

When Darcy slipped away from him, he tried to snatch her back, letting her side-step him as she put her shirt back in place, sure that her dizzy demeanour gave everything away better than her messed up hair or reddened face.

She was only meant to be gone from the labs a few minutes. She made herself return, to tease Steve a little, to keep him on her line.

It turned out she didn’t have to worry. He kept showing up when she least expected it, and it only took another couple days for them to finally have sex. It was on her squeaky mattress, everything fast and giggly. She couldn’t be ironic around him, at least not as much as she was with everyone else. He pulled the joy out of her and she understood now why everyone was crazy, stupid happy when they met a nice guy for once.

A nice guy that liked to fuck her however _she_ wanted, so the first time as he drove into her with sharp strokes, Darcy’s hands were above her head, her scarf binding her wrists to the headboard like how she’d imagined out loud to Steve.

He figured out she was ticklish almost right away, when he made out with her in the pantry, fingers digging into her sides.

He took advantage of that right away, too, groping her without warning when they were alone, Darcy’s high-pitched squeals undeniable.

-

One of his huge hands came up to cup her jaw, his thumb plying her lips open and Darcy ran her tongue over the pad of his thumb, watching his face.

As long as she was tied up, she’d take her little victories where she could, and seeing his eyes flash with heat when she sucked on his fingers was worth it, especially when he glided his other hand up her bare ribs, tickling along the way.

A hysterical guffaw bubbled up from her belly and he smiled down at her.

It lasted another ten minutes (perhaps far less, and maybe Steve was being generous with his estimation when Darcy asked after) before she was screaming for mercy, Steve’s fingers tickling her foot as he fucked her with his other hand.

“Stop – stop – s-stop!” she yelped, but she was laughing, light-headed with the lack of air in her lungs.

His mouth slanted over hers as he gripped her bare ankle, giving her a short reprieve before he replaced his fingers tucked inside her cunt with his tongue.

He slid home sometime later, when the edges of Darcy’s consciousness were blurring and she was covered in sweat. She knew she’d have marks on her wrists tomorrow but it was cold enough to wear cardigans inside the labs, she had nothing to fear.

Steve stretched her, rocking into her with grit teeth, feeling she was slippery and keening for him, his thumb resting on her clit and he picked up speed.

“You gonna make me come?”

She nodded, though he was in control, taking what he wanted from her. She was laughing through her final climax, shivering as he grinned down at her.

“Your smile kills me,” he whispered, panting along with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	26. Darcy/Steve - Swallowing

_I'm like an alley cat_   
_Drink the milk up I want more_   
_You make me wanna_   
_You make me wanna scream_   
**\- "La La" by Ashley Simpson**

Steve was sitting on the couch reading when Darcy let herself into his apartment. He knew it was her because he recognised the sound of her boots on his hardwood floors. A few seconds later, she appeared in front of him, jerking her thumb behind her.

“You know your door was unlocked?”

He did know that. It was an old habit he hadn’t shook from decades ago. Growing up, not a lot of people locked their doors all day like in this century. There was no harm in it then, since everyone knew everyone and the likelihood of being robbed by your neighbors was pretty low, at least in the tiny place Steve grew up in with Sarah.

“Who’s gonna attack me?” Steve threw back, lifting a brow.

Darcy’s hand went to her hip that she dropped, smirking down at him.

“Mrs. Harding?” she said, referring to the elderly neighbour across the hallway.

She was technically younger than Steve by almost twenty years.

“Saw her this morning when I got the paper. She said she was going to visit her daughter in Hoboken.”

“Hoboken,” Darcy repeated.

He nodded, giving up on reading entirely, he was only pretending now. He glanced up at her, head tilting.

“You let yourself in without knocking?”

Darcy leaned down, hands going to either side of his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. He smiled into the next one, his coming up to rub his thumb over her cheekbone, mouths slanting together. He deepened it, hearing Darcy take pull in a breath as he tongue began to lick inside her, before they tangled together, Steve’s book pushed aside as he pulled her into his arms.

The gesture emboldened her, Darcy’s hands gliding up into his hair and tugging as their lips smacked. She fought with him, speeding up, racing ahead of the flirty little quips to blatant hunger.

Steve’s other hand was on her lower back, slipping under her shirt to feel her skin, so warm and soft. With Darcy in his lap, the effect she had on him was undeniable, his dick hard and rubbing against her as they tussled.

She sucked his tongue into her mouth and Steve gave a little groan, fingers curling into her. Darcy drew back with a louder smack of their lips, her mouth wet and her eyes darker.

“Can I blow you?” she asked.

His forehead pressed to hers, licking his lips. She hadn’t asked that before. She’d put her mouth on him before, but only as a prelude to sex. Steve shifted in his seat.

He began to nod, and Darcy smiled, kissing his face, then his neck…

-

Bless Steve, he looked worked up by a few kisses already, so asking him outright seemed like overkill, but Darcy did it to see the look on his face. The cogs took a couple seconds to turn, the connection fuzzy before he nodded his consent.

His cheeks were pink and his hair was mussed from Darcy’s grabbing hands. She watched him try to contain himself, feeling the vibrations of his throat as she sucked a kiss there, her hands gliding down his chest.

They’d had sex a few times, but it was different to this, Darcy taking the reins. She took her time, sucking and kissing down his neck, carefully moving back to kneel on the floor, pushing Steve’s legs apart for her. Her hands ran up his thighs, his body going still as Darcy reached the waist band of his pants.

She heard him suck in a breath as she began to squeeze him over the material, leaning over her, wanting a kiss.

She obliged, rubbing up and down, his tongue in her mouth, until she broke away.

“Take it out.”

His pants were shoved midway down his broad thighs, Steve’s hips lifting to pull everything out. Darcy’s attention went straight to his dick, smelling his musk. She hadn’t sucked on him for a little while, at least a couple of weeks. He was usually so keen to get the condom on and yank her under him by the time Darcy wrapped her lips around him.

She moved back, out of his grip, to kneel and inspect him. With one hand stroking him, her other scraping the skin of his thigh, she studied the ridges and veins of him. He was already a little sticky at the tip from excitement, and Darcy opened her mouth to swipe her tongue over it, her eyes swinging up to Steve.

“Fuck.”

He twitched, and Darcy didn’t hesitate anymore, sealing her lips over the crown of him, swirling her tongue around. She pushed him further back, sucking hard and slow, the sound cutting through Steve’s moan. She was determined to get him as sloppy as her mouth would allow, willing herself to fall into it, let her jaw relax along with her throat.

She let him linger at the back of her throat for a couple seconds, her throat reflexively tightening around him before she pulled back with a sigh, her eyes watering instantly.

She stroked him fast, her grip tight but slippery, and she smiled at him, Steve’s hand pushing the hair out of her face.

“Girls didn’t do this back in the day?” Darcy asked, and he shook his head.

“Well…”

“Good girls didn’t do this,” Darcy amended, and he gave a short laugh, breathless.

“But you’re a good girl,” he murmured. Darcy ducked to suck him all the way down, with the type of mercilessness she knew would make his toes curl. “Oh, fuck…”

He gathered her hair in his fist, and Darcy welcomed the gesture, feeling inspired. She pulled back with a loud pop, mouthing down his shaft to suck on his balls, his left and then his right. Her scalp tingled as his grip grew tighter, his chest beginning to heave.

His words were slurring and Darcy felt warm and alive at the sound of him losing composure.

“You feel so good… Fuck, you’re so good…”

She went back to sucking him, losing air over him, re-doubling her efforts to make him moan and lift his hips a little. Deep-throating him, she heard him hiss:

“Sweetheart, _fuck_ …”

His other hand was on her shoulder, fingers digging in as a warning, his voice following when Darcy didn’t let up.

“Darce, I’m gonna – I’m gonna come, Darce – _Darce_ …”

Darcy only pulled back for a second, to catch her breath, nodding.

“Give it to me,” she whispered, going back in, their eyes locking.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, mouth slack. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me…”

He made an incredible moan, hands spasming, Darcy’s thighs rubbing together, watching his eyes slam shut as his come hit the back of her throat. Darcy coughed, a little one she couldn’t keep inside, his grip loosening on her hair as he panted and sweated…

She swallowed, Steve’s eyes snapping open, a little wider. She’d surprised him, not moving aside to subtly spit him into a Kleenex. He stared and stared as she licked him clean, and she was happy, she was more than happy right now, if it were possible.

She leaned her face against his naked hip for a few seconds to catch her breath before Steve was tugging her up into his arms, surprising Darcy now by kissing her on the mouth unflinchingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	27. Darcy/Steve - Groping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short but it's fluffy

_No, I can't sleep until I feel your touch_  
**\- "Blinding Lights" by The Weeknd**

Darcy noticed him the second she walked into the kitchens, since she had a clear view of him over the kitchen island.

Steve was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around a cushion as his eyes were closed, the TV still playing in the background. He looked like he was napping, but Darcy knew better.

She was only meant to be there a few minutes to use the microwave. Jane was convinced theirs was broken in the labs and Darcy was more than happy to go find a substitute, since there was more space here. There was also the high chance of her seeing certain friends if she got the timing right.

She leaned against the counter with her elbow, Jane’s Tupperware spinning. She smirked, hearing Steve pull in a deep breath. She pushed off, moving to walk around the counter to inspect the TV, seeing it was set to a rerun of _Bewitched_.

Darcy sunk into the adjacent couch to Steve, her eyes on him instead of the TV, her leg crossed over the other. If he opened his eyes, he’d have a clear view of her. She settled further into the couch, uncrossing her legs, letting them fall a little further apart. She was wearing a skirt today, no tights. It was unseasonably warm that October afternoon but she still wanted to wear the mustard-colored skirt without the woven grey long socks. Aesthetically, she lived for fall.

If Steve opened his eyes _now_ he’d have a view of her crotch. Darcy waited for him to falter, narrowing her eyes ever-so slightly toward him as the TV filled the silence.

There was a sudden beep of the microwave that prompted her to stand up, giving a short sigh as she marched back toward the kitchen. She opened the Tupperware, gave it a stir, and shoved it back in and pressed the minute button a couple times. Reheating Thai leftovers wasn’t an exact art. She went back to the couch, sitting down with her legs apart. She watched TV instead this time, listening out for the microwave.

She heard Steve shift and her eyes darted to him, seeing him only roll a little onto his back, his long lashes still against his cheeks.

Darcy tried to not audibly grump about it, choosing instead to rise from her seat and wander over to him as quiet as possible. She crossed her arms, staring down at him in attempt to be intimidating.

“I know you’re faking,” she whispered, leaning in by bending at the waist. “ _Faker_.”

There was a resounding beep from the microwave and she pulled back, her attention leaving him, which gave Steve the ideal opportunity to reach out, one hand darting under her skirt to glide up her thigh.

Darcy gave a little surprised shriek, covering her mouth with her hand, grabbing his wrist, his fingers digging into her ass. Their eyes met, and she could see the mirth in his gaze, the blatant heat it mingled with.

Darcy sunk to her knees, Steve’s hand coming out from under her skirt to take hold of her jaw, pulling her into him for a rough kiss, Darcy’s moan muffled by his lips. She closed her eyes, tasting coffee on his tongue as he tussled with her, his intentions clear. Darcy pulled back for air, Steve’s mouth pressing into her jaw and throat, teeth dragging across her skin as Darcy hissed and tried to gain composure.

“I have to get back, Jane’s lunch –”

“Won’t take long –”

“Steve,” Darcy warned, though she knew exactly what his hands could do, as well as his mouth. “Anyone could walk in…”

“Just lie down with me a sec,” he retorted, pulling back to look her in the eye.

Darcy’s eyes fell to the bulge in his sweatpants, her brows lifting when her eyes swung back to his.

“And _not_ sleep?”

“Sure,” he said, trying to tug her by the waist for another kiss. “Sweetheart…”

He was very cute and very persuasive, but Darcy straightened up the second she heard footsteps in the distance, her eyes wide as she saw Jane appear, looking irritated.

“Darce, what’s the hold up?”

Darcy patted her hair, eyes falling to Steve, seeing he’d gone back to faking. The heat rose in her cheeks.

“Uh, nothing. Sorry,” she babbled. “It should be ready now.”

Jane’s hanger was justified, since Darcy was pretty sure her boss had skipped breakfast because she’d been too busy writing equations. She watched as Jane went to the microwave, retrieving her Tupperware before disappearing out the doorway she came in. Darcy spun to Steve, hands on her hips.

He sat up a little, grabbing her hand once they were alone.

“You’re very lucky,” Darcy muttered, hands on either side of his face, and Steve grinned at her.

“Yeah, I am.”

“I meant because you’re pretty to look at,” she retorted. “Otherwise I’d hate you.”

“Fair,” he said, eyes falling to her mouth. “You on lunch now?”

“Maybe,” she said. “I thought you were busy napping.”

“Got a second wind,” he said, leaning up to brush her nose with his.

Darcy couldn’t help smirking when his hand came up to rub over her rear. He gave her a little pat, smiling into another kiss. Darcy was tugged under him and she began to giggle, smothering the sound in his shoulder as _Bewitched_ played on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	28. Darcy/Steve - Shibari & Scratching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enlisted help from Tumblr for the last 3 days of Kinktober because my brain is a desktop Windows 98 on a hot summer's day with no A/C these past few weeks.
> 
>  **typhoidmeri** : Dude, I have no idea that’s so much candy and I already feel greedy…. but wouldn’t Darcy look pretty all tied up in red rope? Shibari looks like art and Steve could make her sit there patiently while he sketches her all bound up pretty like.
> 
>  **farleighg** : Oh! Also for the first one, scratching caught my attention, not drawing blood or anything but because I love back scratches
> 
> This is filth, have fun

_Fuck me up_  
_Uh, tell-tell-tell me where it hurts_  
_And I'll make it hurt better (Oh, poor baby)_  
_Engine running_  
_Motorcycle bitch clique_  
_Taking names and sucking dick_  
_Fuck me up_  
**\- "FMU" by Brooke Candy & Rico Nasty**

“Checking in, you okay, sweetheart?”

Darcy lifted her chin and flashed a grin, remarkably chipper given her current position. She was kneeling in the middle of the king size bed, arms behind her back, neck a little bent. Steve had come from behind her, smiling back at her with a little fond shake of his head.

This had been her experiment he indulged her in, the sketching was his little spin on it. Darcy had told him about the pictures she’d seen online, of the marks ropes left behind on soft skin, how it had excited her, igniting that curiosity that came with kink that Steve was more than happy to help her with.

“Super-duper,” she whispered, and he took hold of her chin, giving her a light kiss on the lips.

He pulled back, eyes roving her as he admired her naked form, her long hair half in her face. He leaned down and ran his fingers down her left shoulder blade, over several knots that kept her in place. She was bound by red ropes, nylon and sturdy, not that she was putting up much of a struggle. She was enjoying the feel of being exposed yet covered, Steve could tell by how she shivered at his touch.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Steve whispered, not counting on her hearing it, but she gave a breathless little chuckle.

“How do I look from behind?” she asked, and he smirked, picking up the sketch book at the foot of the bed.

She couldn’t crane her neck properly to look over her shoulder. The ropes were attached to each bedpost, with a knot at each ankle, back of the knee, and thigh. He’d taken his time to tie the knots, Darcy watching him with fascination, her breath catching in excitement every so often when he drew the rope taut against her skin, enough to mark her.

She had ropes across her chest and back, the effect was web-like in the end, and it was going to take more than a few minutes to break her free, which he knew she was counting on.

He put the sketchbook under her nose, watching her face for a reaction. What he’d drawn was an ass-first angle of her hunched over like she was, thighs pried apart with her arms behind her like she meant to reach him but never could.

“Oh, my God,” she murmured. “Very nice. I think you made my butt a little bigger than it is.”

“I didn’t,” Steve said with a little smirk, and Darcy frowned. “And it’s about perspective.”

“Can I have a kiss?”

“You can have all the kisses you want,” he whispered, letting the sketchbook drop, taking hold of her jaw to kiss her, a soft peck that morphed into something more, Darcy’s breath hitching as Steve took hold of the back of her head with his other hand, drinking from her.

His fingers threaded through the tresses of her thick hair, Steve’s tongue pushing past her lips, Darcy’s mouth sucking on him, Steve’s desire kicking up another notch.

He’d been hard the entire session of sketching, but he hadn’t tried to alleviate it, had tried to ignore it as long as possible. When he drew back for Darcy to breathe, her eyes were darker, her mouth wet.

“I like it when you… _yeah_ ,” she groaned, because he remembered before she had to remind him, fingers digging into her scalp hard enough to scrape. “I like that…”

She was catlike in her response, trying to arch into his touch, his fingers drawing down her neck and over her shoulders, over the skin and ropes combined. It wasn’t going to draw blood, but she’d feel it a little longer than a simple petting over her body.

She blinked her eyes open when he went in for a kiss to the side of her face. She gave a little chuckle.

“You’re so sweet to me…”

They both knew when she was out of these ropes, he’d be bending her over, fucking her until she cried, praising her the entire time for how she took his cock. Darcy began to giggle, as if reading his mind, and he nuzzled her nose.

“Can I use my mouth for a little while?” she whispered.

Steve’s brows lifted. “You know I’ll probably tear you out of the ropes with my hands once you start that.”

“Sounds fun,” Darcy whispered, and he kissed her again on the mouth, wetter and more rushed than before.

When they broke apart again, Darcy was panting, making a little noise at the back of her throat. Steve moved back to unbuckle his pants and she lit up, smiling once more.

“I’m gonna have to…”

He meant he’d need to do most of the work for her, and Darcy nodded, fast and grinning.

“Okay,” he whispered, a little disbelieving he got to do this with her.

“Gimme…”

He took hold of her face, cock in his other hand, standing over her but stooping to angle himself toward her open mouth. Her tongue lay flat, a little bubble of spit sliding down when he pushed into her mouth, a dribble already forming at her bottom teeth.

She was gifted with her mouth in more ways than one. She always made him laugh with her little quips, but she also made his knees buckle when she got her lips wrapped around him.

Tonight, she was giving it all she could, given she had no hands to work with. She was sucking and licking all over him, Steve’s hips rocking into her mouth, Darcy’s face flushed with the effort. He pulled back to give her air and she sighed happily, spit on her chin.

“More, more…”

“Fuck,” Steve grunted, feeling her deep-throat him now, her muscles contracting around him, mimicking her cunt so well he shut his eyes and imagined it for a blissful few seconds before he drew back again, aware of her lack of air supply.

Darcy shifted a little, trying to reach him, but Steve shook his head.

“I’m gonna come all over your face if you keep doing that,” he warned.

“Maybe I want that,” Darcy retorted.

He took hold of her face, leaning in until their noses touched.

_“You…”_

She kissed him, more teeth this time, and Steve was spurred on, pushing her back and doing what he’d predicted moments ago – he began to rip at the nylon rope, tearing the cords like a hot knife through butter.

Darcy gave a little squeal at the first pop, her arm free, then her other. She fell forward and he caught her with one hand on her shoulder, his other hand reaching over to rip the rope from her ankles.

She was still partially bound, giggling as he pushed her onto her back, pulling down his pants, eyes darting to her chest that bounced as he shifted on the bed.

He slid home with ease, both of them groaning at him filling her to the brim, and he was off – hips snapping, hands gliding up and down to grip her sides and tits, nails digging in when he reached her neck. He thought about biting her there but Darcy was already moaning from the scratches to her throat, like a cat had swiped her, angry red.

Red to match the marks on her arms, red to match how deep the blush was on her cheeks as Steve fucked her hard, Darcy’s cunt gripping him as she tilted her hips to meet each harsh thrust.

He pressed his thumb to her clit, Darcy’s eyes widening, a silent plea there as Steve built her up and up. The fall was always sharp and stunning with Darcy, he knew he’d be coming soon from the sight alone, the sound and the feel were just an added bonus, knowing he got her there.

She was so beautiful, he kept panting, so beautiful and amazing…

Darcy’s back arched and her eyes flew shut, shuddering as she came, their bodies together sounding wetter as she came crashing back down, panting and moaning through her aftershocks.

Steve’s fingers dragged down her neck to the center of her bare chest, his orgasm slamming into him as he let out a groan, shuddering over the edge as he came deep inside her…

“Holy shit,” he whispered, losing vision as he nearly fell on top of her, his hand stopping him in time, both of them panting as the bedroom began to right itself…

Afterward, lying with Darcy latched to his chest, their legs tangled, she was flipping through his sketchbook, looking at the different portraits of her. She traced her lips in one Steve remembered distinctly her posing for – his thumb was in her mouth as she sucked on him with her eyes closed, looking blissful.

“Your lips _are_ that big, sweetheart,” he whispered, before she could ask.

He pressed a kiss to her face and she giggled.

His eyes travelled down her as Darcy flipped the page, in her own world, unaware of the way Steve was staring so intently at the marks on her limbs, everything red and white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING THIS ONE, CAN YOU TELL
> 
> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	29. Darcy/Steve - Dry-Humping

_I'm tired of being patient, so let's pick up the pace_   
_Take me all the way_   
**\- "Touch It" by Ariana Grande**

Darcy stirred awake, her mouth dry, feeling someone’s hand on her shoulder.

Bucky stood over her, Natasha behind him. Darcy wasn’t sure whether she liked the looks on both their faces. They were a little smug, a knowing gleam in their eyes.

“We’re heading out, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, and Darcy realized her whole left side was numb, feeling the weight and warmth of another person leaning on her.

Steve had fallen asleep on her. It was his couch, in his apartment. Darcy was invited over with Bucky and Nat when they all came back from their mission. She’d been happy to see them all, but Steve especially. They were tired but safe. Steve must have crashed, Darcy couldn’t remember him falling asleep or herself doing the same. The TV was switched off.

Darcy felt her cheeks flush, predicting future teasing from her friends, but she was spared for now. Nat took her hand for a second to squeeze it, Steve unaware as she and Bucky left together.

Darcy swallowed when she was alone with him, wondering what to do. She didn’t want to move him, it felt too good with him sleeping on her, but she knew her whole left side had gone to sleep, and she needed to pee…

His head was resting on her shoulder, his hand on her thigh, high up enough to make Darcy’s stomach flip. She could hear his steady, soft breathing. She knew he needed to sleep, but she didn’t want to stay there forever. It would be more awkward to wait for him to wake up.

She bit her lip, gently peeling his large hand from her thigh, placing it back in his own lap. She heard him suck in a breath and she waited, wincing.

“Darce?”

“It’s okay…”

She got up from the couch as fast as possible, ducking out to head to the bathroom. She glanced over her shoulder on her way out, seeing him rub his eyes and then shift into a lying position in his side.

“Come back soon,” she heard him murmur, and she wondered if he meant to say it.

She peed, washed her hands, and glanced at herself in the tiny mirror above the sink. She combed her hair with her fingers, self-conscious. She shut the bathroom door behind her with a soft click and walked back into the couch, her hands slipping into the back of her jeans, seeing Steve had closed his eyes again, his arm laying over the side, his hand by her knee as she stood closer.

“I was gonna go,” she said finally.

She saw his lips curl ever so slightly.

“Lay down for a minute.”

They hadn’t done that before. They hugged a lot, since Darcy was a hugger. She gave him friendly kisses on the cheek on his birthday and on Christmas, but this seemed more than friendly. She swallowed again, feeling her nerves kick in.

He surprised her with a gentle brush on his knuckles to her knee.

“Okay,” she replied, after a drawn out pause.

His couch was big enough to allow for them to lay down together, Darcy choosing to face him. Steve’s eyes were still closed but he moved his hand to Darcy’s arm, rubbing the bare skin.

“I’m wrecked,” he whispered.

“Yeah, I can tell…”

Darcy stared at his long lashes against his cheek, reaching out but not letting her hand settle anywhere on him. She wasn’t quite brave enough, hesitating as he smiled a little wider.

His hand glided over her ribs, the material of her shirt feeling impossibly thinner than when she first pulled it on that morning. Darcy’s breath hitched as he slipped down to her waist, fingers brushing the skin that was peeking out where her shirt had bunched up at the bottom.

“This okay?” he asked, somewhat belated, but it was nice for him to give her to option to say no.

“Yeah, more than okay.”

“Yeah?” he said, blinking at her now.

“Yeah…”

He surged into her and Darcy was taken aback, his mouth slanting over hers in a rushed kiss, his lip between her two. He tilted his head, hand transferring to her face, knuckles brushing her cheek as he deepened the kiss, Darcy’s own hand taking hold of Steve’s t-shirt.

She hadn’t been kissed like this before. How had she never been kissed like this before?

She made a surprised sound against his lips, a little disbelieving. He kissed her with a hunger she didn’t know he could have for her. The undeniable passion lit a fire in her belly and she let out a moan, kissing him back with a similar heat.

“Fuck,” she whispered when they broke apart, his mouth moving down the side of her face.

He pulled her closer, moving to lie on top of her, his knee pushing her thighs open.

Her face felt hot, and from a few kisses alone she could feel she’d gone shivery with pleasure, wanting him closer, wanting him inside her…

His hand was under her shirt, his other gripping her ass over her jeans, Darcy’s thighs around his narrow hips. She rocked into him, hearing him groan by her ear, his fingers slipping up.

“Can I -?”

“Yeah,” Darcy panted, not waiting for him to finish the question.

His fingers slipped under her bra, cupping her as Darcy rolled against him again. He pinched and rolled her nipple, catching her in another thorough kiss, his knee grinding against her crotch.

“Keep going,” she panted. “Please –”

He pulled back a little to rearrange his legs, slotting between her thighs to bump his crotch into hers, Darcy moaning louder, cut off by his next rough kiss, lips smacking as Darcy’s fingers curled into his shirt, gripping him for dear life.

He was –

Darcy’s ability to think was rapidly disappearing, her thighs locked as Steve wrecked her with kisses, bucking into her again and again, rubbing with intent as he began to groan.

She hadn’t done this since before she lost her virginity, so long ago that she’d forgotten the headiness of it, not being naked but mimicking the movements of love-making, everything desperate, the pleasure mounting as kisses turned breathless and clumsy.

Darcy pushed a hand between them, palming his erection as Steve bit her neck. He threaded his fingers through her other hand, sucking away the sting on her skin, Darcy’s vision darkening at the edges.

She took her hand off of his crotch to pop the button of her jeans, shoving her hand down to touch herself, shuddering through her climax as Steve drew back to watch her.

“God,” he murmured, and he kissed her again, tongue slipping in as he clutched her face.

Darcy could feel she’d begun to sweat, her limbs looser as she clutched his chin with wet fingers. He pressed his forehead to hers, starting up his rocking again, hand slipping down to grip her ass again, angling their hips together, Darcy’s moan broken when she felt his crotch against hers once more.

He was getting louder, losing rhythm, mouth slackening as his eyes flew shut.

“Fuck –”

His hips jerked and he went still, Darcy’s arms wrapping around his neck, kissing his sweaty face. After a long silence filled with their collective panting, Steve blinked back the room, his cheeks pink as he stared down at Darcy.

“Shit, that’s embarrassing…”

“No, it’s not,” Darcy said, beginning to laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

Making Steve come in his jeans was probably the hottest thing she’d ever seen. After another pause, she kissed his face, chuckling as he looked like he meant to gripe about the situation.

“You still hard?” she whispered, and he swallowed thickly, eyes falling to her mouth.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well… take off your pants,” she retorted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	30. Steve/Bucky - Role Reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were many routes I could have taken with the given prompts today but I wanted some hurt/comfort sex.  
>  **cw** : internalized homophobia; it's a Grimey fic so it's sad and smutty

_Pulling thorns out of my palm_  
_Working midnight surgery_  
_When I cut a hole into my skull_  
_Do you hate what you see?_  
_Like I do_  
**\- "Souvenir" by boygenius**

“You’re okay, you’re okay…”

He kept saying it over and over, like a mantra. He’d heard Steve say the same thing countless times. Not just to him, but to others in varying squads over the years.

He’d heard him say it to complete strangers, too, pulling them from under rubble when they were absolutely not okay – Bucky still recalled the little boy last year with his legs completely crushed, Steve carrying him out, hand cupping the back of his head as he murmured in his ear. The poor kid was a double-amputee and Steve still visited him on occasion, that constant burden of responsibility on his huge shoulders. Bucky refrained from calling Steve ‘Atlas’ to his face, but in his darkest moods, he’d hiss ‘Big Fucking Hero’ and Steve’s eyes would shine, making Bucky wish he’d just smacked him across the face instead.

They weren’t like that anymore. Bucky had worked on a lot of things for a long time. He didn’t pick verbal fights when he was depressed. He didn’t push back when Steve tried to weather the storms, and now, holding Steve, there was a complete role reversal.

It was a nightmare, that was clear. Steve didn’t need to specify what it was about, there was a trove of material to work with. Bucky made the joke often enough with his therapist that even if they’d never fought in a war, they were both Catholic fairies.

That joke was not appreciated and he always saw her underline something on the legal pad she kept in her lap at all times. He still said it, hoping he’d get a little smirk, some slip of her no-nonsense approach to his recovery. She was cute, he probably would have pretended to go out with her in the 30s, Steve trailing behind with one of her friends. They’d go dancing and he’d kiss her, he’d make her feel good about herself, knowing he was lying to her about wanting to take her home to meet his ma. That never happened. It was always Steve coming to Thanksgiving. It was Steve he kissed under the mistletoe.

He was holding Steve by the back of his head, fingers deep in his sleep-mussed hair, pressing a kiss to his temple with his flesh arm wrapped around his shoulders. He’d pulled him into the embrace when he went to go find him, since Steve practically ran out of the bedroom once he screamed himself awake. They were in the kitchen, lights still out, hours before dawn. Steve’s water glass was half-drained, and his pulse was racing, Bucky had felt it when he took hold of his wrist to bring him back to the present.

Steve sounded like he was pushing back tears, face screwed up as he clung to Bucky. It was rare to see him this torn up over a nightmare. He’d usually jolt awake and slip into the bathroom, splash water on his face to calm down and then slip back into bed, wrapping himself around Bucky and holding himself a little tighter than usual. Steve’s grip was strong to begin with, but Bucky could take it.

“You’re okay,” Bucky whispered, kissing him, stroking his hair now. Steve sucked in a breath, a sound escaping from the back of his throat, a helpless kind of groan that made Bucky’s guts twist.

So this was what it felt like, trying to comfort him when he was fucked up. Bucky kissed him again, tilting Steve’s chin up to trail his kisses down his cheek to press his lips to Steve’s.

Steve groaned, opening his mouth and deepening it, grip tightening around him, and Bucky knew he was hard without looking down, Steve’s desperation beginning to mount.

They’d had sex like this many times before, it was hard to keep track of it. It began when they were hiding together before the war, bringing each other off, partly wishing they’d rid themselves of wanting one another if they got it out of their systems – only to do it again and again. Back then, it always felt like both the first time and the last time they’d make love, and it was always with tight fists jerking, both of them practically growling with the need to relieve each other. It would morph into something tender and Bucky knew they were doomed, he’d never stop wanting this punk that drove him nuts.

Bucky kissed him back now, overtaking Steve in heat and speed, grabbing hold of his face with both hands, tongue probing his mouth, Steve moaning, a pleading to it Bucky hadn’t heard in a long time.

He was like this soon after Azzano, but then it was like he meant to fuck Bucky into the dirt, and Bucky had to bite down on his own shirt sleeve to smother the sound of his desperate moaning. Afterwards, when he was limping, both of them slurring their speech, Steve felt a little more secure.

He could do it again, for Steve. He could take care of him. The last time Bucky had a bad day, Steve had blown him on the couch and didn’t even jerk off when Bucky said he was too tired to do more. The selflessness was too touching to put into proper words, and Steve deserved the same treatment.

“C’mere,” he whispered, and he was tugging Steve back, walking them into the bedroom, returning to their rumpled sheets, pushing him down onto his back.

Steve was moaning, Bucky’s hands helping tug off his shirt, fingers gliding down to rid him of his pants, too. Bucky yanked his shirt off, got out of his own clothes as fast as possible, kissing Steve in between, making it clear what his intent was when he wrapped his hand around his cock.

He let go to spit in his hand, the movement smoother as he jerked Steve slowly, their eyes locking, Bucky hovering above him, thighs on either side of Steve’s.

“That’s better, huh?” he whispered, and Steve was leaning up to kiss him, his hand on his lower back. “That feel better? You’re here with me, can you feel me?”

“Yeah,” Steve managed to breathe, and in the low light of the lamp beside him, Bucky could see his face was flushed.

Bucky pushed Steve’s hand further down, encouraging him to dig his nails into the muscle of his rear, jerking Steve, watching his eyes shine up at him.

Bucky pressed a kiss to his lips, his tongue slipping in, swallowing Steve’s moan, moaning along with him when he swiped his thumb over the stickiness leaking from the crown of his cock. He drew back, reaching over to the drawers that housed the lamp, opening the top one to get a bottle of lube, Steve’s mouth pressing to his chest, nuzzling at his skin.

“Lay back, Stevie,” he whispered, and Steve did, chest heaving as Bucky uncapped the lid.

He wasn’t going to tell him to stop thinking, or to relax. That shit never worked for him, and he doubted it ever did with Steve. Instead, Bucky slicked him up, Steve’s hands on Bucky’s sides, wanting to draw him closer. Bucky stayed on top of him, teasing his hole with a couple fingers. He remembered the first time they did this – whole lifetimes ago – when he used to be more of a prude about his best friend playing with his ass. He was used to it now, but how Steve was staring at him, looking like he wanted to strip him to the bone with his eyes, it was intimidating.

This wasn’t about him, he had to remind himself. Steve was aching for it and he’d beg if Bucky was cruel enough, not that it ever came to that…

He began his descent, Steve’s breath leaving in a rush, feeling Bucky all around him, their bodies sliding together. Steve slotted into place as Bucky sat on him, drawing a deep breath, feeling his balls already tighten up.

He began to move as he leaned forward, taking hold of Steve’s chin. Steve kissed him with less finesse, and Bucky knew it was going to be a fast and dirty fuck, which was nothing to sniff at. He was all for mutual hand jobs over hours and hours of a lazy Sunday, but some of the best sex he’d ever had was like this, very little preamble, Steve panting and thrusting into him like it was all he knew how to do.

Usually Steve was the one on top, or bending Bucky over, or lying beside him. Bucky didn’t ride all that often, simply because it was in Steve’s nature to be the protector and provider, wanting to give him everything. And… obviously there was an element of Steve being completely mindless when he had sex. What people didn’t know about the kid from Brooklyn was his inability to keep his cool when he wanted someone.

Bucky rocked back and forth, shivering like Steve was, goosebumps all over his skin. He could see them on Steve, too, probably because he could feel how tight Bucky was, taking him like this. The delicious burn was undeniable, but he didn’t intend to come before Steve like usual.

Steve was already sweating beneath him as Bucky rode him into oblivion. He could see the freckles on Steve’s bare shoulders and arms. He did not tan, it was something Bucky always thought was so cute about him, how Steve was dusted with little marks you had to be in close proximity to for them to be visible, even with perfect eyesight.

“Buck,” Steve breathed, and he was warning him.

Bucky doing all this seemed to take it too far, at least for Steve. He’d let Bucky climb on top of him, but having himself come so soon was too much. Bucky leaned forward for a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue. He sucked on Steve’s lower lip, Steve rewarding him with a soft groan, his fingers gripping Bucky’s hips tighter.

“Come,” Bucky whispered, and Steve whimpered, eyes flying shut.

Steve went still, Bucky still rocking, and Steve went taut, a helpless sound ripped from him, his feet scrambling as he came. Bucky slowed to a stop, Steve panting below as Bucky leaned down, raking his fingers down his heaving chest.

“You’re here,” he whispered, taking hold of him to cuddle Steve. “You’re here with me.”

 _Steve’s crying_ , he thought belatedly, hearing the barely audible sobbing into his neck. He kissed the side of his face, cradling him as Steve’s arms wrapped around Bucky’s middle.

It was another minute before either of them spoke, Bucky murmuring:

“You need to get outta me, sweetheart.”

“Please don’t leave me,” Steve whispered, the plea so unlike him. “Please…”

“I’m never gonna leave you,” Bucky said, pulling back to look him in the eye. “I love you.”

Steve winced, throat bobbing.

“I’m sorry –”

“Shh,” Bucky whispered, pressing a softer kiss to his lips.

Steve took over, their tongues tangling, and Bucky grunted at the sudden sensation of Steve’s hand wrapping around his shaft, squeezing him.

_“Steve –”_

Steve knew how to get him off faster than Bucky was prepared for, both of them gasping into each other’s mouths as Steve wrenched it out of him, Bucky spilling over his fist with a choke moan.

“Stop, stop, stop,” Bucky was begging, because Steve kept at it until he got every last drop, Bucky’s body clenching around Steve.

They both panted, and Bucky was dizzy, grabbing Steve by the hair, trying to regain some semblance of dignity or a right mind…

“You’re okay,” he panted, and Steve melted into another kiss, track marks of his tears still shining on his face.


	31. Darcy/Steve/Bucky - Body Worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final fic for this year's Kinktober is for **endlesscalendar**.
> 
> Holy shit, it's over again. Thank you for reading. I'll see you next year. ❤

_He my man_  
_He my boo_  
_He my type_  
_He so cute_  
_I want him_  
_And I want him too_  
**\- "I Like Him" by Princess Nokia**

_I get what I want_  
_I want what I see_  
_I wanna do, do, do, do bad things with you_  
**\- "Bad Things" by Cailin Russo**

They didn’t arrive until late, like they said they would.

Darcy had spent most of the day driving out there, the chill setting in when she crossed the state line. Last time she was there was summer, mosquitoes everywhere, sweat upon sweat on her face and arms as she parked by the cabin. This time, the sun was already setting when she pulled up, her breath in front of her face as she slammed her door shut, wrapping her arms around herself as she shivered.

She built a fire and lit some candles and lamps, checked the generator was still working, made the beds and cleaned the bathroom. The cabin wasn’t hers, it was under a false name to begin with, but she spent the most time there of the three of them, especially when they went away and she didn’t want to stay in the city or the compound. She made coffee, pouring some in a tin mug and walked into the living with it, the fire crackling as she perused the bookshelf.

There were several Stephen Kings she could fuck with, but alone in a cabin in the woods – Darcy knew she’d be glancing over her shoulder, jumping at random sounds outside. She remembered she brought her Kindle and took it to the couch, leaning on her elbow as she flicked through to something light and mindless, deciding on an omegaverse erotica trilogy she bought on a whim earlier.

She woke with a hand on her shoulder sometime later, Bucky crouching by the couch, smiling at her. The blanket she’d wrapped around her was pushed down to her waist as she slept. The fire must have been warm enough, crackling as Bucky smiled, the dry brushing of his palm against her bare arm filling the silence between them.

“Hey,” she breathed, and he took hold of her face to kiss her, her lip between his two.

She heard a distinct, rhythmic thudding sound from outside and knew Steve was outside chopping wood. He did the most of it whenever they were there. Darcy had only managed a few logs for the fire when she arrived earlier, he must have seen the smaller pile and decided it was the perfect time to chop up more.

She cuddled Bucky, sitting up a little so he had better access, his arms wrapping around her middle. He tucked his chin into her chest like it was a soft shelf, Darcy’s hand stroking his hair as she drank him in.

His hair was half up, coming loose from Darcy’s fingers carding through it. His beard was longer – she expected Steve hadn’t shaved in a couple days, either, her tummy flipping at the thought. She liked them scruffy and excited to see her.

“Next time you’re comin’ with me,” Bucky murmured, his voice a low rumble, Darcy’s lips parting. “I missed you too fucking much.”

“Me, a stowaway?” Darcy said. “You know I’d only complain the entire time.”

“You’d enjoy it, us keeping you in the base. Like a little secret,” he retorted, Darcy’s lips brushing his. “Like here, but –”

“ _More_ immediate danger?” Darcy whispered, and he chuckled.

A short peck, slow and tender.

“Those wolves are no joke,” Bucky said.

“They’ve spared me so far…”

She hadn’t heard any of them howling the last few hours, but she had dozed off before. She’d seen them before, months ago, when they were outside in the middle of winter. The pack was small, only five of them, but when Darcy first saw them she felt something deep inside awaken, like whenever she was barefoot in grass.

She’d learned how to use the rifle they kept at the cabin. She didn’t want it to come to that, cutting a creature down like that, everything so one-sided.

She changed the subject. “How’d everything go?”

“We’re okay,” Bucky said, smiling again. “We’re even better now.”

There were a few more thuds as Bucky leaned up to kiss her again, hands slipping under her shirt to feel her sides, nails scratching a little as his tongue pushed into her mouth, Darcy’s moan muffled by his lips.

He picked her up, the blanket falling to the couch as he swiveled them around to the fire, laying her down on the sheepskin rug in front of it. She shrank a little, but not from being ticklish, when Bucky rubbed her tummy with his flesh hand, his metal one slipping down to grab a handful of her rear.

They’d known each other for years. She knew it was silly, being self-conscious of her body when he and Steve were attracted to her as much as they were. She wasn’t trying to sabotage it exactly, but she wasn’t able to stop herself from grunting and trying to wriggle away.

“What’s wrong -?”

“Nothing,” Darcy whispered, shaking her head, grabbing him to kiss his mouth again, Bucky looming over her, a frown forming on his face.

He settled on top of her, their hips rocking, when Darcy heard the front door open and shut, the footsteps following signifying Steve’s return.

“Can’t leave you two alone for a second, huh?” he murmured, and Darcy broke away from Bucky, blinking up at him.

With Bucky’s erection pressing into her thigh, his lips trailing down her throat now, hands grabbing her tits under her shirt and over her bra cups, Darcy gave a little needy groan, her eyes meeting Steve’s.

While Bucky wore his red Henley shirt, Steve wore his red flannel under his winter coat, brows lifted at them rolling on the floor, his face scruffy with a short beard, eyes turning darker as he took in Darcy’s flushed skin.

He knelt beside them both, Darcy’s hands finding his, Bucky going still during their little reunion.

“You were the one out there chopping w-”

Steve never did anything in halves, she and Bucky knew that from experience. He poured everything into a kiss, only drawing back for Darcy’s sake, their foreheads pressed together. With Steve’s lips off her, it gave Bucky the opportunity to steal her away, his rough kiss making her giggle, clothes starting to get tugged off and tossed aside.

She hadn’t touched herself in all the time they’d been away. She’d tried to keep herself occupied with other things, work and worrying about whether they’d be coming back at all. Then she was packing for this rendezvous in the woods and she hadn’t thought about her growing need, the absence of feeling either of them on her for days at a time.

She’d become greedy, expecting one or the other to kiss her, squeeze her, bring her close into his side. She was used to being held almost always, it was hard to go without them both.

Her body came alight as she was stripped bare, a desperate kind of scrambling to her own movements as she lifted her hips, shucked down pants and underwear, kicked things aside to bring them both back into her, lips on hers and her face.

They were both scratching her with their beards in a delightful way, making her hiss and shiver. She didn’t know whether to begin, until they were both pressing her down onto her back, their mouths on her bare chest.

She’d been sure of herself before, thinking she’d remain composed. She’d be calm, because she’d done this so many times before. Her eyes shut all the same, overwhelmed by seeing them both on her, lips latching onto her nipples, fingers gliding over her hips and ass, her thighs pushed apart –

“Oh, fuck –” Darcy gasped, choking a little on her moan as she realized belatedly that Steve’s mouth had sealed over her cunt, his tongue pushing up into her, Darcy’s heel digging into his back, her thighs already quivering.

Her hand lay on Steve’s head, pushing her hips into him, his arms wrapping around her thighs to keep them open, the sound obscene as he sucked and fucked with his mouth –

“She’s coming already,” Bucky murmured, smiling down at Darcy as he watched her face, and Darcy was trying to curl on herself, desperate and wriggling.

They were laughing when she lost control, her whole body tingling as she clenched and whimpered, her other hand reaching out blindly to hold onto Bucky’s arm, nails digging in –

“Fuck, Steve, I can’t – I can’t –”

She came again, less intense as the last one, but she was yelling, growling as she tried to twist away from his mouth, eyes watering from the effort. He relented, his chin and lips shining wet as he emerged, wiping himself on his bare shoulder, sticky prints left on his skin.

He chuckled as Darcy rolled her eyes, panting. He pressed a kiss to her mound, then further up to meet her face. Bucky stole another kiss, Steve watching them both, his hand on her belly.

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy –”

“Don’t…”

Darcy broke away from Bucky again, hating that she wanted Steve to stop, passing a hand over her burning face, only to have Steve take hold of her jaw.

“You,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her lips, pointedly. “Are beautiful.”

“You are,” Bucky agreed. “All of you.”

To save face, Darcy took hold of Steve by the shaft, stroking him with a twist of her wrist at the end. She was trying to distract herself from all the attention, but they had other ideas, Bucky shuffling back until he was on his belly, angling her hips to the side to throw her legs over his shoulders.

Darcy was kissed so thoroughly, both on her mouth and her pussy, moaning, hearing Bucky groan at the taste of her, Steve’s grip on her jaw tightening.

She kept rubbing against Bucky’s mouth, eyes locking with Steve as he drew back for her to breathe.

His voice was quiet but made Darcy’s stomach drop.

“Bucky, fuck her.” His eyes were on Darcy and Darcy alone. “Fuck her now.”

“Bossy sonofabitch,” Bucky muttered with a fondness that pulled on Darcy’s heart, yanking her down, hitching her thigh over his hip as he lined them up.

He slid home with ease, a little moan slipping out of him, and he was leaning down to kiss her nose.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered, and Darcy touched the side of his face, let herself smile up at him, seeing those creases by his eyes as he grinned back.

He began to move, shallow at first, Steve lowering himself so he was whispering in her ear.

“Look - he can barely keep it in, he wants it hard and fast but knows he’ll finish so soon…”

Darcy shook her head a little, unconvinced. They were putting it on, to make her swell with confidence. It was too earnest.

“You’re gonna make him come so hard, look at his eyes staring at you bounce –”

Bucky grunted, cupping one of her tits, hips picking up speed, a switch made inside. Darcy couldn’t deny that she loved seeing him disappear inside her, she loved seeing his ass over his shoulders as he thrusted like a metronome, never missing a stroke as Darcy’s back began to arch from the floor…

“Show her how she makes you feel, Buck,” Steve said, and Bucky moaned, kissing her, sucking her tongue into his mouth, going harder. “Fuck her sore –”

“Oh, God –” Bucky groaned, and he went taut, three more hard pumps –

His eyes flew shut and he came, fingers digging into Darcy’s hip and ass, Steve’s lips on the side of her face, his eyelashes brushing her cheek.

Bucky pulled out, panting, leaning down to kiss her as Darcy tried to make sense of it all, still reeling from Steve’s commands. It was something new, him being so filthy.

Bucky managed to not fall on top of her, lying on his side, his cock wet and spent, softening as Darcy could feel the mess drooling out of her –

Steve barely took a second for her to recover as he got up, shifting to lay back down, tongue sweeping over her inner thigh, all the way up to her cunt, licking the mess away. The goal wasn’t to make her come, but Darcy was gasping at his thorough tongue, her face burning at the slurping sounds he made, his hair mussed as her fingers dug deep into his scalp.

She was briefly distracted by Bucky’s lips brushing her shoulder, enough that she gave a little surprised yelp at Steve suddenly turning her onto her stomach, bringing her hips closer to his, his cock brushing between her cheeks.

“You fucking–” he let out a grunt as he pushed inside her to the hilt. “- _kill me_ , goddamn. So fucking tight even after he’s been inside you…”

Darcy’s hands had balled into fists on either side of her head as she tried to bury her face into the floor. Steve moved in sharp thrusts, the air knocked out of Darcy every time, a helpless little moan accompanying each slam of his body into hers.

He began to pick up speed, Darcy’s moans turning to keening. She couldn’t sound cute anymore, they made her feel like an animal, clawing at the floor as Steve fucked her like he was mad, her body tightening on its own.

Bucky was the one to pinch her clit, Steve hitting the same spot over and over, and she was coming with a guttural groan, enough to mortify her if she wasn’t so lost in it all –

Steve came with a drawn out groan, flattening her to the floor, Darcy’s eyes meeting Bucky’s as she turned her head to the side, waiting for the coast to be clear.

He was still sweaty and heavy-lidded, smiling at her as Steve pulled out. She remained on the floor, waiting for the energy to come back, the ability to walk soon to follow.

She managed to stumble to her feet, Steve already back from the bathroom, kneeling with a dampened washcloth, which he rubbed down her front, careful between her thighs. Bucky wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her cheek.

Steve pressed a kiss to her knee, a softness to his gaze that made her suck in a breath.

There was a reverence to them now that she couldn’t ignore. They wouldn’t ever lie to her.

There was a howl in the distance, breaking through the air taut with emotion, Darcy’s eyes stinging from unshed tears as she gave a sniff, frowning.

“That sounded close.”

Darcy wrapped the blanket around her shoulders as Steve and Bucky put on their pants, Steve pulling his flannel shirt over his bare chest, the three of them walking through the front door, Bucky carrying the rifle.

Darcy squinted, seeing the shapes in the distance, on the side of a hill. She held her breath.

“There’s three,” Bucky murmured, after he peered through the scope. “Three wolves.”

There was another howl and Darcy let go her breath, the air lifting to disappear into the ink black sky. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Kinktober 2020 Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3bo1vQhk2Los75gZ7YMm7l)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


End file.
